Harry & the Mysterious Curse of the GirlWhoLived
by Lord Jeram
Summary: Harry always knew that there was something unique about him. In a way, the arrival of the Hogwarts acceptance letters was almost expected... except, why are they all addressed to 'Harriet Potter?
1. 1: Harry is NOT a girl

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

This may be the oddest thing I've ever written. Any and all comments, including "I don't get it" are welcome. I'm also not really sure about the title. This is not a pure crack-fic - but give it a chance. I've got some really messed-up crap in store...

_This is an alternate universe with a very odd divergence. It may seem a bit similar to the originals at first... but that will change very soon indeed._

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER ONE: HARRY POTTER IS NOT A GIRL**

Harry Potter was your typical, everyday not-very-well-treated orphan living in a house where his relatives didn't really care for him. They called him by the angry epithet of "freak" constantly, although Harry eventually realized what his own name was by the time he began to attend school. Harry didn't exactly hate his relatives, but he certainly did not love them. He didn't, to be honest, even like them at all, but at least that feeling was clearly mutual.

Harry just tolerated them, even though he was forced to do difficult chores and given very little food, whereas his rotund and corpulent cousin the same age was given copious gifts, spoiled rotten, and was permitted to bully Harry as much as he desired. But his cousin Dudley was not in good health, and was quite stupid, so Harry didn't feel bad feeling more than a little bit superior.

His relatives absolutely hated anything that could be considered "abnormal", although this was such a subjective concept, Harry really didn't understand what could be thought of as "normal". He felt normal, and he didn't think his relatives were normal. Then again, maybe he wasn't normal either.

But there was something odd that kept happening over the years. Every so often, his Aunt Petunia would make an odd remark referencing something girlish. Never in context, never in a way that made sense. "Perhaps you'd prefer to wear a dress after all!" That sort of thing.

Or "You might as well have pigtails with that hair!" Which made even less sense, considering Harry had short, albeit highly unmanageable dark hair. His Uncle Vernon and Dudley never really chimed in on these insults, having plenty more to choose from. So Harry learned to mostly ignore them. Mostly.

But everything would change when the bizarre letter arrived.

It was the day before Harry's birthday, and he was sent (as per usual) to retrieve the daily mail. But amid the various letters for his aunt and uncle, a mysterious and ornate letter lay, oddly addressed:

_Ms. Harriet Potter:__  
__The Cupboard under the Stairs__  
__4 Privet Drive__  
__Little Whinging__  
__Surrey_

The Cupboard Under The Stairs? A weirdly specific and accurate detail, as this was where Harry slept in somewhat cramped quarters. It could have been worse, of course, at least he could stretch out fully. His cousin Dudley had two bloody rooms. But Harry was used to the unfairness of life and found pleasure where he could find it.

But why did the letter say "Harriet"? Maybe it just meant "Harry" and someone made a mistake? Harry didn't like it, but had little choice but to ask his relatives.

"Aunt Petunia, there's a letter here addressed to a 'Harriet Potter'. It looks like it's from a place called 'Hogwarts' - weird name."

Aunt Petunia's face drained of color and she leaped forward and grabbed the letters out of Harry's hands, completely startling him.

"Here now, what's going on?" Harry asked, a bit too completely taken aback to be his normally polite self to his aunt.

But his question would go quite unanswered.

And many more would soon arrive.

A very frightened Vernon hustled the lot of them from place to place, trying to escape the crazy mislabeled letters. But more and more came and followed their every move. Harry was excited and scared at the same time, but honestly wondered what in the world was going on. It was clear that his aunt and uncle knew more than they were saying, but they refused to answer any questions. Even Dudley's, whom they almost never refused anything. Chilling, that.

Eventually Vernon had taken them to some island in the middle of nowhere, and claimed that "no one will find us here!"

Harry feared he was right, and as the seconds passed, he realized that midnight was nearly upon them. His birthday would be soon, and he would get nothing for it. Not that he ever did, though.

3...2...1... Harry Birthday, Harry Potter.

But then, suddenly, a mighty shudder was heard at the door, and an enormous hairy man burst into the cramped cabin. He ripped Vernon's gun from his grasp and twisted it into a knot, exhibiting ridiculous strength.

The man introduced himself as Hagrid, and explained that he was there to pick up Harry and take him to the silly-named Hogwarts. Apparently Harry was famous, and Hagrid was completely shocked that Harry didn't know about it. He then turned his wrath on the Dursleys for keeping the truth from Harry, although Vernon continued to bluster about angrily in protest.

"Ah, go boil yer heads," said Hagrid. "Harriet - yer a witch."

Harry frowned and looked confused. "Wait, what? Did you say say 'witch'? And did you really call me Harriet? My name is HARRY, not Harriet. Harriet is a girl's name, and it also sounds stupid." Sexist though it may be, Harry didn't like being called a girl.

Hagrid started to laugh. "Yer just like your mum, with red hair and everything. Cute as a button, yeh are!"

Harry turned slowly to look at the broken mirror on the wall and touched his black messy hair. His mouth opened, then closed again. "Um, Hagrid, is there a word for boy witches?" Harry was desperately hoping this was the case.

"O' course, Harriet. They're called wizards, sure."

"Oh, that makes sense," Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "So I'm a wizard then?" Harry realized this might explain all the bizarre things he had experienced over the years: hair growing back, reappearing on a roof, and of course the latest bit, the hilarious vanishing of the glass in the reptile house at the zoo.

"No, Harriet, girls are called witches, mind yeh. Yeh are a witch. Nothin' to be ashamed of. And yeh'll be a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. Yer mum was brilliant, and yer dad was a smart one too. I reckon I oughter give yeh yer letter now that I'm thinkin' abou' it."

Harry wasn't sure he agreed with the logic, but he accepted the letter. But oh, what a letter! Yes, it also was mistakenly addressed to Ms. Potter, not Mr. Potter, but it was an invitation to a SCHOOL OF MAGIC. Harry couldn't help but get excited, although he was a bit confused about some of the references.

Hagrid quickly explained that owls were used as a method of communication, and set off a message to Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of the school with an owl he had hidden under his cloak. But it didn't take long for things to get a bit worse.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop her," Hagrid growled, and explained that the term was used to describe non-magical people.

Harry's head was spinning, and he felt he had a great deal to learn. But once he realized his Aunt had known all along - Harry was furious. Of course, Petunia angrily defended her actions, which was no real surprise. Hagrid explained (he was doing this quite a bit, of course) that Harry's parents hadn't died in a car crash at all; in fact, they were killed by an evil witch who died attacking him.

Although Hagrid would not stop referring to Harry as "Harriet", and Harry was starting to get just a BIT frustrated.

"Dang it, Hagrid, please just tell me this evil witch's name! Could you write it down at least?"

"Nah - can't spell it. All right - _Volotredi_. Awful, horrid old woman she was. Terrifying."

Hagrid then revealed that Harry (or "Harriet") was the only known survivor ever of the dreaded Lady Volotredi, so he was called the "Girl-Who-Lived". Harry was about to protest this invalid sobriquet, but Vernon and Hagrid quickly began to argue, and then Hagrid had given Dudley a hilarious pig's tail.

Harry could hardly be mad with Hagrid after that.

"Wow!" Harry enthused. "So... I can hardly believe I'm a wizard too."

Hagrid smiled proudly. "Indeed, 'Arriet! Yer a witch just like yer mum and dad, like mother like daughter, right?"

Uncle Vernon, growled, seemingly stuck between insane fury and intense longing (to get rid of Harry, naturally).

"Well, 'girl'." Vernon growled and pushed Harry forward. "You had better get going with your new hideous friend."

Dudley, still hiding behind his mother, looked extremely confused and turned to Petunia to ask a question, but she shushed him presumptively.

"But Mum," Dudley whined. "Why is Dad calling Harry a girl?"

"Be quiet Dudley." Petunia hissed. "I'll explain to you later after 'Harriet' is gone." She frowned spitefully. "Nothing we can do about it anyhow."

Not getting it at all, a frustrated Dudley pushed Harry forcefully, as this was really the only thing he could think of to do.

"Here now!" Hagrid growled angrily. "That's no way to treat a lady!"

Harry sighed and rubbed his head, hoping he wasn't about to get a headache.

"Don't yeh worry, 'Arriet," Hagrid assured Harry. "I'll take good care o' ye. Plus I'll get to show yeh the great Magical things, right? Ye'll love it, just like yer mum. Aye, but yeh are the spitting image of 'er, ain'tcha?"

"I'm not!" Harry insisted in frustration. He turned to his relatives. "Aunt Petunia, I don't look like my mother do I? I mean not like a girl?"

Dudley laughed, not about to turn up this opportunity to insult Harry. "Yeah, you look like a girl, Harry. A baby girl!"

"Shut yer mouth," Hagrid growled, and Dudley squealed in fright, hiding behind his mother.

For her part, Petunia did not look pleased. "You look nothing like your mother," Petunia informed her nephew. "Except for your blasted eyes. You look just like your degenerate father. Now get out of here with your freakish friend and leave us in peace!"

Vernon was still too rattled to speak, but he was able to glare, reinforcing his wife's words.

Harry sighed. "Fine, sure, let's go Hagrid."

Hagrid beamed and gingerly patted Harry on the head. "Yer a bright lass, ye'll do fine. Come on, let's go."

* * *

Harry awoke to find himself in the boat Hagrid had arrived in, and was filled with sudden exuberance. So what if Hagrid didn't seem to understand that Harry wasn't a girl? He was about to see Magical Business, although Harry obviously had no idea what might be in store. Anything was better than the Dursleys, anyway.

Hagrid noticed Harry had awoken and burst into a happy smile.

Harry chuckled to himself, even if the giant man wasn't quite all there in the head, he was so friendly and so happy to see Harry, Harry resolved to always treat the man with respect. He had rescued Harry from the Dursleys, and that deserved more than a little forgiveness.

"Hagrid, can you tell me about my parents?"

Hagrid blinked but then nodded readily. "Of course I can, Harriet. First of all, let me pay the owl fer the Daily Prophet - it's the wizarding newspaper." Harry's eyes widened at the odd little bronze coins Hagrid gave to the delivery owl, which Harry hadn't even noticed.

"Is that Wizarding money?"

"That it is. And I suppose yer worried about not havin' any on yeh? Well don't worry about that, yer parents left yeh gold in the wizard bank." Hagrid quickly gave Harry an overview of Gringotts, a bank run by goblins, where Harry's vault was safely guarded.

"Now that ye're out from those nasty Muggle relatives, I can give yeh back yer key. Didn't want them to know about it, right?"

Harry blanched and shook his head. The very idea - he knew that his Uncle Vernon, hatred of abnormality aside, would be all too happy to help himself to a vault of gold.

"Ah, but yeh were askin' abou' yer parents, eh?" Hagrid chuckled with an enormous grin on his face. "Yer mum was a great friend o' mine, even though I was just the Keeper of Keys and Grounds. She visited me all the time, yeh know, and although I didn' know yer dad as well at first, once they were together, they visited all the time."

"That's great," Harry said with an easy smile. "So they weren't always together?"

"Nah, I think it was their seventh year they finally realized how they felt. Lily sure liked teh complain about James before that though, I'll tell yeh!" Hagrid said with a boisterous laugh.

Harry couldn't help but join in the laughter.

"But I'm sure yeh'll be knowin' all about that soon enough, eh Harriet?" Hagrid said with a knowing wink.

Harry frowned, thinking there was some kind reference there to Hagrid's mistaken view of Harry as a girl, but for the life of him, Harry had no idea what Hagrid might mean. But he wasn't about to ask for clarification - because there was the awful possibility he might get an answer.

Soon enough (expedited by some surreptitious magical acceleration by Hagrid) they reached the shore, and made their way through London to a ratty, broken-down old pub called "The Leaky Cauldron".

"Don't let the looks fool yeh, Harriet. That's just to keep all them Muggles out. Come on!"

Sure enough, on the inside the pub was not broken down at all, but filled with talking patrons. It wasn't sparkling clean mind, but it was a pub after all. Could these oddly dressed people be other wizards and witches? Harry was quite excited to see them, but he couldn't help but wonder if they too would mistakenly call him a girl. Hopefully Hagrid was the only one - maybe he had some sort of odd mental gender defect that made him see the opposite genders on people. Maybe he couldn't tell the difference. Or maybe there was some obscure curse on Hagrid - hey, magic existed after all, why not bizarre curses? Harry was willing to accept just about any rationalization at that point.

Several people looked up and greeted Hagrid as they came in. Apparently he was well known around there.

"The usual, Hagrid?" The barkeeper asked.

Hagrid smiled and shook his head ruefully. "Nah, I can't today, Tom. I'm on Hogwarts business," he patted Harry carefully on the head, although it still wasn't exactly a gentle touch.

The bartender took a closer look and his eyes widened. "Good Lord, is this - can this be?" The entire Leaky Cauldron had gone eerily silent. "Bless my soul, Harriet Potter... my dear, what a delight to finally meet you!" Tom hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and bowed low. He took Harry's hand and kissed it, leaving Harry shocked and quite disconcerted.

"Welcome back, Miss Potter, welcome back."

Well, there went the hope that it was only Hagrid that thought Harry was a girl.

Harry, getting his wits about him, seized back his hand. "Um, I'd prefer to shake hands. I am a boy, you know," he added, hoping this would sink in.

Tom the bartender looked chagrined. "I quite apologize, young lady. I never know quite what's changed with the latest generation. Perhaps you would favor me with a handshake, then?" He stuck out his hand tentatively, tension clear in his expression.

Harry sighed but accepted the handshake. It seemed rude to act otherwise at that point.

Unfortunately, that seemed to open the floodgates, as suddenly Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone else in the pub, many of them more than once.

Harry saw a man that looked familiar as he introduced himself as Dedalus Diggle, wearing a stylish top hat. "I've seen you before," Harry realized. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

Diggle seized his chest and had an expression of pure delight on his face. "She remembers! Do you hear that? She remembers! Young lady, your memory is as sharp as you are beautiful. Just like your dear mother."

Harry couldn't help but wince at that. He began to worry that he'd soon be hearing that particular unwelcome "compliment" far too often. But the handshakes kept coming. At one point, a stuttering young man introduced himself as Professor Quirrell, who would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts.

Although Harry didn't think the trembling and nervous man seemed capable of even mustering a defense against butterflies.

After a minute or two more, Hagrid stepped forward and looked cross. "A'right, that's enough all of yeh! Treat the girl with some respect! She's got things to do, same as all of yeh." Slowly the crowd dispersed, and Hagrid revealed the magically hidden entrance to the wondrous Diagon Alley.

It was such a magical place, filled with all manner of magical folk and items. Harry scarcely knew where to look next.

"Welcome," said Hagrid. "To Diagon Alley."

Harry's eyes shot from one wonder to the next, barely even taking any one thing in. He saw a sparkling stack of shiny cauldrons outside the nearest shop.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."

Gringotts.

Hagrid introduced Harry to the imposing wizarding bank with its surly Goblin guards. The large man gave Harry his vault key and the two sped down a twisting railway in a tiny cart with their Goblin guide. Harry was shocked by the mounds of coins in his vault.

"My parents left me all this?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yup, it's all yours. But don't worry, ye'll only need a bit for yer purchases I'm sure."

After helping Harry gather together some coins, they sped off to another vault, where Hagrid retrieved some mysterious item for Dumbledore. Harry was incredibly curious of course, but he was far too polite to pry into Hagrid's business.

Outside, Hagrid sighed, looking a bit sick. "Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, pointing out Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harriet, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a... well, a small pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts."

Harry chuckled. "Of course, Hagrid. Come by when you're done."

Hagrid nodded readily in relief and sped off.

Harry entered the store alone, feeling a bit nervous, but Madam Malkin was clearly used to nervous first year students.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked kindly. "I can take care of you. Another Hogwarts student is being fitted up just now, in fact."

Harry looked to the back of the shop to see a boy with a pale, pointed face. Madam Malkin led Harry over to a footstool next to the pale boy.

"Hello there," said the boy with an odd smile, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and Mother's up the street looking at wands. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in." He winked. "I'm sure I'll look quite dashing, don't you think?"

Harry was simultaneously disgusted and reminded of Dudley's spoiled greed. Come to think of it, that was Dudley twice.

"I'm a boy," Harry informed the boy, not expecting to have any effect.

"Of course you are," the boy said with a creepy smile. "You don't have to convince me."

Harry frowned, disliking this boy more and more every second.

"I'm sure to be on the Quidditch team this year, you'll have a chance to cheer me to victory, I'm certain. Know what House you'll be in yet?"

"No, I don't," Harry answered a bit brusquely, not really wanting to continue the conversation, but he did wonder about Quidditch and this House business.

"Well, I am quite certain I'll be Slytherin. Cunning and ambitious, after all, right?" Draco laughed, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

"I'm glad you've figured it out," Harry answered, wondering what Slytherin was, exactly.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window, where Hagrid stood grinning, two large ice creams in his hands.

"That's Hagrid," Harry said, his eyes narrowing. If it was a contest between this spoiled brat and slow but friendly Hagrid, it wasn't even close. "He works at Hogwarts, _obviously_." Harry made sure to emphasize the last word.

"Oh, I know that," said the boy hurriedly. "I've heard of him, of course. Um, a servant, I think. That is, I know what he does."

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry, wondering if it was possible to hate someone in such a short time.

"Well, I knew that already," the boy said with a sneer. "I hear he's some sort of savage, living in a hut by himself. Crazy man."

"Well, I think he's brilliant," Harry said, a touch angrily.

"Do you?" the boy said with a small sneer. "Who are you, exactly? Are your parents _our_kind?"

"They were a witch and wizard if that's what you mean."

"Well, don't get your knickers in a bunch," the boy snorted. "Besides, I don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They just don't belong."

Harry thought that it was a good thing he was covered with pins and needles - otherwise it was very possible he'd already have decked the little berk.

"That's you done, my dear," Madam Malkin said suddenly.

"Um," Harry licked his lips in sudden worry. "These aren't like specifically girl's robes. I don't want to wear girl's robes."

"Don't worry, dear, I understand," Madam Malkin smiled knowingly. "These robes are essentially the same for young witches and wizards, just fitted slightly differently. You won't look at all that 'girlish', if that's your worry."

That was exactly Harry's worry, so he nodded his thanks with a ready smile and hopped down.

"Wait, what's your surname?" The boy asked.

"See you later," Harry said flippantly.

"Um, well I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts then," the boy said, looking a bit taken aback.

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "Sure."

Hagrid and Harry ate their ice cream quickly, and continued on their trek through Diagon Alley, stopping off at a book store and an apothecary for school supplies.

"Just yer wand left - oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

Harry felt himself go red. Well, that was a clear difference between Hagrid and the spoiled boy, after all. "You don't have to get me anything, Hagrid."

"Nonsense!" Hagrid assured, and bought Harry a beautiful snowy owl.

Harry was enchanted instantly. "You're beautiful, girl, right?" He looked to Hagrid for confirmation, who nodded. Then Harry glanced around and whispered, "you know I'm not a girl, but a boy, right?"

The owl looked at Harry like he had just said something unbelievably stupid. Harry chose to take that as agreement.

And now it was time for the magic wand - Harry could scarcely wait. The two walked into Ollivander's wand shop, which seemed unoccupied... at first.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. An old man stepped out of the shadows, startling Harry completely.

"Um, hello," said Harry awkwardly.

"Ah yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon," said the man. "Harriet Potter."

Harry sighed. Another one getting it wrong.

"You have your father's eyes. It seems like only yesterday he was in here himself, buying his first wand. Eleven inches long, pliable, made of mahogany. A bit of power and an excellent wand for transfiguration." Mr. Ollivander moved closer, his eyes glinting a bit creepily. "Your mother, on the other hand, favored a willow wand. Ten and a quarter inches. Swishy. Nice for charm work. Well, I say your mother favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, or witch, of course."

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerfull, and in the wrong hands... well if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

"So you also knew my parents?" Harry asked, trying to break the tension. It seemed that they had been quite the popular couple.

"No, that's a rather strong wording," Ollivander corrected. "In fact, I never spoke to them after their wand selections. But that is quite normal for most people, I assure you. Usually I only see someone again if they need a new wand replacement."

The wandmaker's eyes glinted as he looked Harry over. "Which of your parents do you think you take after? Your mother? You do look quite as I remember her as a young girl."

Harry scowled. "No, I think I don't take after my mum in looks. I'm a boy, haven't you noticed?" He rolled his eyes in frustration. "What am I saying, nobody else has!"

Ollivander raised an eyebrow. "I believe you are mistaken, _Miss_ Potter," he said, emphasizing the "Miss". "You are a girl, of course. I think I can trust my own senses."

"I am not a girl," Harry protested a bit loudly. "And you heard me say it then? Most people don't even seem to notice."

"I wouldn't know anything about that," the wandmaker replied. "But as I said, you are wrong. You are not a boy, you are a girl."

"You can't tell me what I am! I think I'd know!" Harry found himself getting very annoyed. Finally someone actually acknowledges that Harry keeps protesting being called a girl, and what - this old man telling him he's wrong?

Ollivander stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose gender dysphoria is not entirely impossible. I have seen cases of it before, although quite rarely. I do not care to suffer such delusions, mind you. I will refer to by your proper gender nomenclature and pronouns, I assure you."

Harry blinked in confusion. "I don't even know what gender... dysfunction? I don't even know what you said!" He glanced over at Hagrid, who looked utterly baffled. Well, no help there.

"Gender dysphoria, not dysfunction. It means you have a mental defect where you mistakenly believe you are the opposite gender of what you actually are." Ollivander shook his head sadly. "Of course, I don't hold to just placating such nonsense. Children shouldn't be permitted to change their gender on a whim."

Harry's eye twitched as he tried to control his temper. "Mr. Ollivander," Harry said very slowly and calmly. "Please just give me my blasted wand already. Thank you very much, _sir_." That last bit was said just a touch incensed.

Ollivander snorted, but complied, rummaging through a few boxes of wands. It took several false starts, but Harry finally found his wand. And the rush of exhilaration - he almost forgot about the severe annoyance Ollivander had been.

* * *

"You all right, Harriet? Yer very quiet?"

Harry sighed. How could he possibly explain to Hagrid? It had been the best day of his life - but also by far the weirdest. He was getting to study magic, but everyone mistakenly thought he was a girl. Even Ollivander, who at least understood Harry when he protested the mistaken gender identity, refused to believe that Harry WASN'T a girl.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

"Don't yeh worry yer pretty little head about it all," Hagrid said with a beaming smile. "Yer mum was raised by Muggles, too, right? And she was right brilliant at school. Everyone loved her. I'm sure yeh'll be loved by everyone too."

Harry couldn't help but feel a bit better with that sentiment. "I hope I can live up to what everyone expects of me."

"Ye'll be brilliant, Harriet. I'm sure of it." Hagrid said with utter confidence.

Well what can you say to that?

_Next time...__  
__The Express and Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts__  
__  
__"WHAT?" Harry shrieked. "I am NOT a girl! I do NOT have pretty hair!"_

_Ron held up his hands. "Sorry, Harriet, didn't mean to offend you."_


	2. 2: Friends and Enemies

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER TWO: FRIENDS AND ENEMIES**

Harry stood in the middle of King's Cross, laden with packages, nervous and excited. His only companion was the beautiful owl Hagrid had given Harry, whom Harry had decided to call "Hedwig" after a name he found in _A History of Magic_. Harry often found himself talking to his owl over the summer, although the most he got back were varying glances that Harry liberally interpreted to mean all manner of things. It was still far better than talking with the Dursleys, who were avoiding him all together.

The previous month hadn't exactly been pleasant, but the Dursleys had moved Harry to Dudley's second bedroom, in a display of begrudging generosity that left Harry deeply suspicious. Surely they didn't expect him to start throwing about horrible magical hexes at them after only just getting his wand - and not even started school yet.

Although it did leave Harry curious as to how things might have been when Aunt Petunia and his Mum were kids - did Petunia get hexed or pranked badly with magic by her sister? It sounded hilarious, although perhaps if it was true, that might have led to Petunia's terrible hatred of magic. And Harry did think he remembered Hagrid saying that magic wasn't permitted in the Muggle world. So young Petunia shouldn't have gotten hexed - well, unless she deserved it for being awful.

That Harry could believe far more readily.

Harry had spent most of his time reading over his schoolbooks, trying to get up to speed. He was terribly worried that his Muggle-raised background would leave him at the bottom of the class. What if they expelled students for bad marks? Harry couldn't bear the the thought of having to go back to the Dursleys after being kicked out of a school for magic. How Uncle Vernon would grin triumphantly that "You weren't worth anything even by their standards, were you?"

Well, Harry wasn't about to let that happen if he could help it. Harry was the first to admit he wasn't the best at schoolwork, although he did well enough at the Muggle schools. He didn't care for homework and tests, but then who did? Dudley did horribly at school and was always still coddled by his parents, but Harry had stopped expecting any recognition for any effort from his relatives long ago. They had reached a sort of compromise: as long as he didn't say anything when the grades arrived, they didn't accuse him of trying to show Dudley up.

Actually, Vernon often used Harry's higher marks as an insult, in the manner of "Dudley knows far more about what really matters in life, of course, not that pansy book nonsense", whatever that meant.

But now, searching for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Harry was beginning to become a bit worried. There was a Platform Nine and a Platform Ten, of course, but nothing in between. Harry wondered if there was a hidden entrance like to Diagon Alley, but Hagrid hadn't mentioned anything about it. Maybe it had slipped his mind - but there was no way for Harry to ask for clarification.

Asking the guard was no help, although Harry was careful not to mention the Platform's name, just the destination of Hogwarts and the departure time of eleven o'clock. The guard didn't know of any trains leaving at eleven, and hadn't even heard of Hogwarts. He seemed to think Harry was pulling a fast one, although the guard should have realized that was ridiculous considering everything Harry was lugging around.

It was only ten minutes left until eleven, and Harry was beginning to get a bit desperate. He began to consider his options. Maybe he could carefully use his wand to poke at the walls for hidden doors.

But then at that moment, a family of red-haired people passed by, chattering to each other, and Harry caught a key word or two.

"- packed with Muggles, of course -"

Harry whirled around to see a plump woman escorting four red-haired boys. The boys each had a trunk similar to Harry's, and one was carrying an owl. Feeling hopeful but painfully anxious, Harry pushed his own cart after them. Perhaps they would use the hidden entrance Harry suspected was around and Harry could just follow, acting as if he knew all along.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother, looking frazzled and out-of-sorts. Harry couldn't blame her, really.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, whom Harry hadn't noticed. "Mom, can't I go... "

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

Harry watched for the secret, but just as the boy would have reached the dividing barrier, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin went next, and Harry watched carefully, but whichever twin it was just vanished right before the barrier. Now how did that happen? Harry wished one of his books had mentioned anything about all this.

But it didn't seem like he had much of a choice, so he moved over to the mother and cleared his throat politely. "Excuse me," Harry said.

The woman blinked in surprised, then smiled widely, clearly seeing that Harry was a wizard as well. "Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too," she said, pointing at the last of her sons, a tall and thin boy with the same flaming red hair as his siblings.

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is - the thing is, I don't know how to -"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded_._

"Not to worry, darling" she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

"Er - okay," said Harry. He looked at the barrier, worrying about its apparent solidity. But it was supposed to be a magic entrance, wasn't it? Harry walked quickly towards the barrier, whispering "There's no barrier, there's no barrier" to himself. Finally he broke into a heavy run, and closed his eyes, waiting for a crash.

But nothing happened. Harry opened his eyes and pulled his cart to a halt. He gazed around in wonder at the platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express and behind him stood an archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it.

Well, thank goodness.

Many of the carriages were already filled, so Harry moved down the platform, watching for an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh, Neville," he heard the old woman near Neville sigh.

Harry felt a bit embarrassed for the toadless boy, he clearly remembered Hagrid saying toads were not popular pets. And honestly, why would they be? After a few minutes, Harry finally found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He began to heave his trunk toward the train door, but it was so heavy that that it slipped through his fingers and banged against the floor.

"Whoa, you shouldn't be doing that by yourself! Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins he'd followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," Harry panted.

The red-haired twin nodded with a grin and called over his shoulder, "Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" It didn't take long to get the trunk into the compartment with the twins' help.

"Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you?'

"She is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Harry.

"Harriet Potter," chorused the twins.

Harry scowled. He had almost managed to forget about the girl thing. "Oh, her, I mean him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am him. Not her, rather."

The two boys looked startled, as though they hadn't expected this answer, and gawked at Harry, who felt a bit embarrassed and slightly annoyed. They wouldn't do this if they thought he was a boy, after all.

"Fred? George? Are you there?" the woman from earlier called out, obviously their mother.

"Coming, Mum."

With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train.

Harry sat down next to the window, listening to the red-haired family's conversation. He felt a bit guilty about it, but everyone already knew him - or the girl version, at least, so it was only fair he found out more about other folks.

The twins teased the younger boy, who was apparently named Ron, and then they were joined by their older brother Percy, who was a Hogwarts Prefect. The twins had a few laughs about that as well. Harry wondered if they were going to mention meeting him on the train, and then, as if on cue...

"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train? You know that red-haired girl who was near us in the station? Know who she is?"

"Who? I don't think she's related to us, if that's what you're asking. Not quite the right shade of red."

"No, it was Harriet Potter!"

The little girl shrieked suddenly, even startling Harry. "Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see her, Mum, oh please... I've waited so long."

"No, you've already seen her, Ginny, and the poor girl isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. She doesn't need to hear any of your stories either. But are you sure, Fred? How do you know it's really Harriet?"

"Asked her. Saw her scar. It's really there - like lightning."

"Poor dear - no wonder she was alone, I wondered. She was ever so polite when she asked how to get onto the platform." She frowned. "Not right to have such a young girl by herself going to the train, where ever could her guardians have been?"

Harry imagined Vernon or Petunia escorting him into a hidden, magical doorway and couldn't help but snicker. That wasn't too likely.

"She's a pretty one, don't you think Ronnie?" One of the twins asked, grabbing Ron into a headlock

"Shut up!" Ron yelled, pushing himself free.

The other twin looked curious. "Never mind that, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

"Fred, that is a horrible thing to ask! She doesn't need any badgering from you or anyone else. When I just think of the poor dear all alone on the platform, not even knowing how to get through the barrier? It's just awful."

The train whistled sounded suddenly.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"George!"

"Only joking, Mom."

The boys quickly clambered onto the train, and Harry settled back in his own seat.

The train began to move, faster and faster. Harry felt incredibly excited as the houses sped by, having no idea of what the future might hold - but it was bound to be loads better than not going at all.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in, looking pale and biting his lip.

"Is, um, anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry."I think everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head. "Go ahead."

The boy sat down, and glanced quickly at Harry, then looked away suddenly, pretending he hadn't done anything so obvious.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Harriet," said the other twin with an enormous grin, "did we introduce ourselves, my lady? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

Harry sighed but nodded, choosing to ignore the "my lady" remark. "Bye", he said, while Ron sat there, looking like he was about to explode. He clearly wanted to ask Harry if he was REALLY Harry Potter, but he was trying very hard not to say anything impolite. Harry smiled slightly, a bit amused.

"Come on, out with it," Harry finally said with a laugh.

"Are you really Harriet Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded. "Harry, actually," he corrected.

"Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got - you know..."

He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.

"Wow, the Girl-Who-Lived. You have pretty hair." Ron's face blanched, as if he hadn't meant to say this.

But Harry was not at all ready to forgive the boy, no longer so amused. "I am NOT a girl! I do NOT have pretty hair!"

Ron held up his hands. "Sorry, Harriet, didn't mean to offend you."

Harry sighed. "Never mind, I suppose I should have expected it. Just get one thing straight and we'll be fine." Harry pointed a finger at Ron's face. "Don't ever compliment me with anything girlish again, or even SAY anything about me being a girl. Got it?"

Ron nodded frantically. "Um, not a word, Harriet. Is, um, Harriet okay to use?"

"Well, I'd prefer Harry."

"Oh good then," Ron sighed in relief. "I really didn't mean to offend you, Harriet. It's just you're kind of famous. Well, you already know that, of course." Ron now looked petrified. "Oh, Merlin's beard, I don't know what I can even say to you!"

"Actually I was raised by Muggles," Harry said, hoping to relieve some of the obvious tension. "So I didn't even know about the fame business until last month. I didn't even know I was a wizard until I got the letter."

"Wow, really?" Ron looked dumbstruck. "I mean, I had heard rumors you were living with Muggles, but you didn't know about You-Know-Who and everything?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope, it was a shock to me, I can tell you," he said with a laugh.

Ron laughed as well, finally relaxing a bit.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who really had been wondering about this.

"Er - Yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

"Well, not that much really," Ron said, shaking his head. "Well, to be honest, I don't actually know any." He frowned. "Although I guess I heard a few things from my brothers over the years."

"My relatives didn't teach me anything," Harry confiding. "They were pretty horrible. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Harry shrugged. "Well at least you knew about magic. I didn't even know my parents left me money until I went to Diagon Alley last month. At the Dursleys, I didn't even get new clothes - I had wear Dudley's old ones. And they've never even given me proper birthday presents; last one was a clothes hanger, if you can believe that."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "You had to wear a BOY'S clothes?" He looked at Harry's clothes and winced. "I mean, not that that's bad, I guess. Sorry, I didn't mean to mention anything girlish."

Harry chuckled. At least Ron was learning not to call Harry a girl - maybe Harry would be able to pretend no one else did either. "It's fine. I guess growing up you must've heard all about my weird story with my parents and Volotredi?"

Ron gasped.

"What?" said Harry.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people -"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harry quickly. "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

Ron shook his head sternly. "You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough. And you're not stupid, so you'll do fine I'm sure."

The two kept talking about various things until a bit past twelve, an older woman came by with a cart loaded with candies. Harry was starving, so he got one of everything.

"Wow, you like your sugar, huh?" Ron shook his head with a rueful grin. "Just like my sister." His eyes widened as he realized what he had said. "Um, not that I'm calling you girlish, of course!"

Harry laughed. Ron and his polite but impolite ways were starting to grow on him. "Come on, have some too. I got too much for just me."

Ron blinked and smiled. "Well, all right, thanks." He helped himself to a few treats. Harry found a curious candy, a pack of Chocolate Frogs. Ron quickly explained that they came with cards of famous witches and wizards.

Harry's Chocolate Frog had the card of Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. The card was filled with all sorts of interesting and pointless facts. Harry felt himself getting highly amused when the bearded man actually walked out of the frame of the picture. Magic was pretty fun, when Harry didn't let the girl annoyance bother him.

A bit later, they heard a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry had passed on platform nine and three-quarters peered in, looking teary eyed and a bit terrified.

"Sorry to bother you two," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all? Small dark green one?"

Harry and Ron shook their heads.

The boy wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" He then looked at Harry and reddened. "Oh, I don't know what to do."

"He'll turn up," said Harry. "I mean, how far can a toad even go?"

"Yes, I suppose you're probably right," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." Ron poked at the snoozing rat in his lap. He shrugged. "Well, I got him from Percy after all." He slumped in his chair. "Even my wand is from someone else."

"Well I do know how that is," Harry reminded Ron. "The robes I got last month were the first new clothes I've ever had. The Dursleys never gave me anything new."

"The Dursleys are your relatives? Muggles, right?"

Harry nodded.

Ron frowned. "Oh, they sound awful. I was never one of those types to hate Muggles; my dad's kind of mad into them, to be honest. But maybe I was wrong." He looked quite troubled at the possibility.

"Don't let my terrible relatives change your thinking," Harry reassured. "There are good Muggles and bad Muggles, just like there are good wizards and bad ones. Heck, I even met a pretty bratty kid in Diagon Alley who was as bad as Dudley - that's my cousin. So I figure you should really judge folks by how they act, rather than anything else." Harry paused. "I mean, I'm not trying to be all inspiring or anything, that's just how I see it."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I see your point Harriet. You're pretty smart, actually." He grinned nervously. "That kind of compliment is all right, eh?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Harry said with a chuckle.

The compartment door slid open again, interrupting their conversation. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron. "It's not like it had far to go after all, right?"

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Very well. Have you two been talking about magic?"

"Um, a bit," Harry said. "We both come from different places, after all. I was raised by Muggles and Ron's family is all wizards. But my parents were magical too, though."

"Really?" said the girl excitedly. "How fascinating. I was raised by Muggles, too, of course, but nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all this very fast.

Harry looked at Ron, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione a bit skeptically. "I've heard all about you, of course - you're in several books I've read. I don't know how much of is true, of course. Is it really true what it says about you in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_?"

"Well, I don't know," said Harry, feeling dazed. "I haven't read that one. I didn't even know I was in any books at all."

Hermione huffed, looking down her nose in disapproval. "Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. But what about the houses? Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

Ron and Harry looked at each other in a kind of stunned amazement.

"That was nuts," Ron said finally, shaking his head. "She's an odd one. Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it. Crazy girl. Um, not that I'm saying all girls are like that." Ron gulped in panic. "Um, not that I meant to talk about girls at all!"

"Settle down, Ron," Harry said in a soothing tone. "I think we can both agree Hermione is a bit - unusual, is that fair?"

"Yeah, definitely," Ron agreed. "But I still wouldn't want to be in her house."

Harry shrugged, not entirely caring that much. How bad could it be, really?

"What house are your brothers in?" he asked.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"That's the house Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?"

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

"Don't worry so much," Harry said teasingly. "You'll get wrinkles."

"Really?" Ron asked.

"Um, no, that was a joke."

"Oh," Ron laughed. "I thought you were serious." He shook his head. "Must be a Muggle thing. Oh wait a minute!" Ron suddenly looked thunderstruck. "I just realized! Quidditch! You don't know anything about it!"

"Well, I know a little," Harry said carefully. "But it's not like I've seen a game or anything."

"That's awful. It's the best game in the world, you'll see. Each house in Hogwarts has a team, and they play for the House Cup. It's brilliant. My brother Charlie was Seeker for Gryffindor til he graduated."

"Can you tell me more about Quidditch?" Harry asked. He didn't mind asking Ron for clarification; unlike the boy in Diagon Alley, he wasn't arrogant and creepy, and he was far more coherent than Hagrid.

Ron beamed and was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Harry through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time.

Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with the same creepy smile he'd had back in Diagon Alley.

"Well, well, look who it is," he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harriet Potter's in this compartment. I should've known you were someone special, eh? Well, I suppose I did at that, didn't I?"

"Well, nice to see you too," said Harry casually, not meaning it at all, but he was far too relaxed to care about the brat. He glanced at the large boys flanking the spoiled blond boy.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "But they're not important." He leaned forward with a toothy grin. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He bowed in a very pompous fashion.

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Was I talking to you, whoever you are? Oh, but I know who you are - my father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "My dear, you'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others. The Weasleys are all wrong for you to ally with, I assure you. Why don't you come sit with me? Or better yet, why I don't ask Crabbe and Goyle to 'escort' the useless poor boy out of here?"

Ron growled, but then looked back at Harry, suddenly worried.

But he needn't have bother worrying about it.

Harry stood calmly, his eyes twitching a bit, but carefully keeping his face in a pleasant smile. He looked at Ron and winked, although he hoped the redhead didn't get the wrong idea.

But Ron instantly looked relieved and then angry, as if he suddenly remembered Draco's insults.

"Malfoy, was it?"

Draco nodded, preening.

"Well, perhaps you can tell me why you are any better than Ron here?"

"Um, what?" Draco asked, startled. "I don't - I don't understand the question."

"You heard her, Malfoy," Ron said, leaning back in his seat. "How are you better than me?" He looked like he was really looking forward to the answer.

"Well, that's..." Draco looked back and forth in confusion between Ron and Harry. His eyes narrowed. "What did he promise you? You're not some sort of scarlet woman, are you?"

Ron leapt up in sudden fury, clenching his fists in anger. "What did you just say?"

Harry didn't know what Malfoy's obvious insult actually meant, which took much of the sting out of it. Still, he was more than a bit tired of being referred to as a woman - being insulted as woman was suddenly far, far worse.

"Malfoy, I don't know what you're getting at," Harry said slowly. "But I can tell you don't care about what girls have to say. Or anyone else for that matter."

Draco bristled. "That's not true. It's just that girls aren't as skilled as men, that's just common knowledge."

"Is that right?" Harry felt he should defend women, even if he wasn't technically one at all. "What's your mum's name?"

"W-what?" Draco stuttered.

"Well," Harry said with a shrug. "I just want to send her an owl about what you said - you know, that girls aren't as skilled as boys. I'd like to get her opinion, since you clearly learned from her about all this."

Malfoy paled noticeably, looking almost sickly. "Don't you dare! I mean, just please, don't send her any notes!"

Harry glanced quickly over at Ron, who looked like he was about to burst into laughter. Harry smothered a grin, it wouldn't do to laugh at this moment.

"Well, then I think you owe someone an apology," Harry said.

"Fine," Draco grumbled. "I apologize, Potter for insulting your skills. I'm sure you're as good as any man, probably better than Weasley here."

Harry shook his head at that - Malfoy probably couldn't even help himself. "No, I mean you owe an apology to all women. Unless you'd rather me get a second opinion from your mother?"

Malfoy's lips curled and he looked very cross. "You are very uppity, Potter. You'll pay for this insult. I'll apologize to all other women than you - you're clearly inferior to even House Elves." He snorted and gestured to his silent bodyguards, who followed him out of the compartment, pushing their way past Hermione, who was standing in the doorway.

"Oh, that was marvelous," Hermione said with a smile. "Perhaps you aren't so bad after all, Harriet!"

"Perhaps?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Oh never you mind," Hermione snorted. "A boy wouldn't understand."

Harry wasn't sure he understood either - but that was a good sign, right?

And how much longer until they arrived at Hogwarts anyway?

* * *

_Next time..._  
_The Sorting Hat and Everyone's Least Favorite Potions Master_

_Snape's eyes glittered oddly. "You look quite a bit like your mother, Miss Potter."_

_Harry didn't know why, but he felt extremely uncomfortable at that moment._


	3. 3: The Wisdom of an Old Hat

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**And a quick note: There is a song in this chapter by our old friend the Sorting Hat. It is not the one JK Rowling wrote. And it is shorter. So you don't need to just skip it. But feel free, nonetheless.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER THREE: THE WISDOM OF AN OLD HAT**

Harry Potter had never really had any friends growing up at the Dursleys - Dudley's bullying prevented anyone who was willing to overlook Harry's shabby appearance from actually being friendly. The other schoolchildren were all too willing to tease Harry for anything from his over-sized formerly-Dudley-owned clothes to his sellotaped glasses. So Harry never really knew that much about other people except from a sort of distance - except for his relatives, of course, but Harry figured he knew them a bit _too_ well.

Harry had once heard the expression "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" in school, and if actual physical distance was considered, he never hated the Dursleys less than at that moment, standing before the imposing yet awe-inspiring walls of the vast castle of Hogwarts. Perhaps because the Dursleys were the furthest thing from his mind.

But in the relatively short time he had been exposed to the Magical world, Harry had managed to form a few opinions about the various people he had already encountered and had any sort of conversation with. Hagrid was a bit slow, bit silly. But someone whose ridiculous size belied a truly gentle spirit and a was apparently a real friend of Harry's parents. The old man who sold wands - Ollivander. Creepy. Arrogant, perhaps somewhat justifiably, but still. The only one who seemed to "hear" that Harry wasn't a girl, but still refused to acknowledge it. Which in some ways, made him almost the most annoying person Harry had met - almost, except for one... Draco Malfoy - what a spoiled brat. Imagine a skinny, rat-faced Dudley who was also very creepy and had a decent vocabulary. Unlike Dudley, Malfoy wasn't just stupid, but he was an arrogant little jerk. On the more reasonable side of things was Ron Weasley - amusing in a sort of keeps-putting-foot-in-mouth kind of way. If he could keep up his "Don't refer to Harry as a girl" and general reasonableness, Ron might just end up being a decent sort of bloke. As for the other Weasleys - the mother seemed nice enough. The twins were a mix of annoying and friendliness. Time would tell on that. The rest were essentially unknown, especially the ones Harry hadn't even met yet, if he ever would.

That one girl Hermione Granger - seemingly smart girl, kind of condescending and odd. Seems like she disliked Harry for an unknown reason. Perhaps being an actual girl would lend some insight on it, but that wasn't something Harry wanted to dwell on. And then there was Neville Something-or-other - poor kid. Embarrassed easily, with a toad for a pet! Harry felt kind of bad for him. And he hadn't referred to Harry as "Harriet" even once - so that was one plus in Neville's favor, at least.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harriet? Nobody gave yeh no trouble, right?" Harry shook his head. Good ol' reliably friendly Hagrid. The familiar face certainly relaxed Harry's nerves a bit, with Hogwarts right there in front of them.

Hagrid smiled and winked obviously, but Harry didn't really mind that particularly. "C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" The various first-years quickly fell behind the enormous gamekeeper, a feeling of excitement of nervousness and excitement palpable in the evening air.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

And there it was. Hogwarts. Harry was so close he could almost feel the magical energy bursting from the ancient stone walls. He glanced around quickly. His fellow first-years seemed similarly entranced with the impressive edifice. Even the annoying Malfoy couldn't be blase about such a sight.

Hagrid led the group to set of boats, each capable of holding four students.

Harry caught a glimpse of Malfoy looking at him in a almost calculating sense, and quickly turned to Neville and Hermione, who were standing nearby.

"Say, why don't you come on our boat?" Harry asked before Malfoy could get any closer or say anything. Neville and Hermione looked surprised, although Hermione looked a bit suspicious, while Neville merely looked as though he was shocked anyone had even bothered talking to him.

Ron looked at Harry and shrugged. "Yeah, why not?" he said.

Eventually all the students found boats and Hagrid even spotted Neville's wayward toad, Trevor. Harry wasn't sure if he should congratulate Neville for getting back his pet or feel bad that he got back a frankly terrible pet. Harry settled for giving Neville a friendly smile and a thumbs-up, which caused to Neville look like he wanted to hide or throw up but couldn't decide.

"What's with him?" Harry managed to whisper to Ron.

Ron chuckled nervously. "I have no idea."

But soon enough they reached the gates of Hogwarts, where Hagrid turned them over to a stern-faced, tall, black-haired woman.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Hagrid turned to leave, but gave Harry another obvious wink for good measure before disappearing into the darkness. This time, Harry was pretty sure no one else had noticed, since the students were far too focused on McGonagall's actions.

She pulled the door open and led the students into an wondrous and cavernous entrance hall,

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. She explained, in a very no-nonsense sort of tone, that they would all be Sorted before the feast into one of the various houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Harry remembered bits and pieces about the houses, although the main things he remembered were that his parents were in Gryffindor and Volotredi was in Slytherin. That didn't seem too difficult to decide between, although Harry wondered if he would even have any say in the matter.

McGonagall finished her short lecture with a cursory explanation of points and house cups. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose.

Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair. Then he remembered he supposedly had "pretty hair" to everyone else and scowled. Well, fine, he'd keep his hair however he pleased then.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

"So, Ron, how exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Ron. "Do we get to decide?"

Ron looked as though as wasn't sure he wanted to answer. "It's a kind of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking. I'm sure he was, right?"

Harry gulped, suddenly worried. He had read some of his books already, but it wasn't like he knew any spells. And all the other students, watching him. Could you fail this test? Forced to go back to the Dursleys?

No. No, that wouldn't happen. Harry breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. He would do just about anything to prevent being sent back there, away from learning about magic.

A bit calmer, Harry glanced around and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. Well that was a bit more heartening. Even brainy Hermione Granger, who had supposedly memorized her books, was whispering very fast to herself about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Ron looked pale and nervous, and Neville was obviously sweating heavily.

And stupid Malfoy was clearly nervous, although he was trying to pretend he wasn't. Prat.

Suddenly several people behind Harry screamed, causing him to jump forward a bit. A group of ghosts had just streamed by, babbling to each other about something called a "Peeves". One fat one took a moment to welcome them, although Harry doubted most of the shell-shocked students had even heard the words.

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

McGonagall had returned, and led the children into the Great Hall, which was yet another sight that took Harry's breath away. Thousands of floating candles, sparking golden goblets, tables of chattering and staring students. And the ceiling above... it was like looking into the clearest night sky imaginable, dotted with countless stars.

Dang. Magic was pretty cool.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_." Oh, Hermione. Harry couldn't help but smile a bit at the very well-read Muggleborn girl. He didn't even know that Hogwarts had an eponymous history book in the first place. Harry wondered if would be worth reading or if it was one those dry, dusty old history books that could bore you to sleep before you even opened them.

Although with a Magical book, perhaps that could actually happen.

Harry quickly looked back towards the front of the hall as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put an old and worn pointed wizard's hat. What in the world?

And everyone was staring at the hat. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:

_A hat, a hat, a Sorting Hat_  
_A song, a song, a pondering song_  
_Only wizards would think of that_  
_A singing, talking, Sorting Hat_

_Try me on and I will find_  
_The place where you shall be assigned_  
_Which house is the house in store?_  
_The founders inspired a mighty four_

_Slytherin for those who slink_  
_Ravenclaw for those who think_  
_Hufflepuff if you don't mind caring_  
_Gryffindor if you don't lack daring_

_And the other houses that don't exist_  
_Are for those who shall be dismissed_  
_But worry not, for you shall be Sorted_  
_The Founders' Will shall not be Thwarted_

_Each of you will find their kin_  
_A house that shall be found within:_  
_Hogwarts!_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Wearing a talking hat? For a crazy magical test, that didn't seem that bad at all. Heck, Harry thought he could wear an entire set of talking clothes if need be. In fact, Harry would probably be willing to "pretend" to be a girl if he absolutely had to - although he was really REALLY hoping that was not the case.

Professor McGonagall had already started calling out names.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

In quick order, "Bones, Susan" also went to Hufflepuff, and "Boot, Terry" and "Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw. "Brown, Lavender" was the very first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

Well as much as Harry wanted to go to Gryffindor, those twins had better not catcall him. Or else... something would definitely be done. Harry wasn't sure how he'd pay them back exactly, but he'd find a way.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" was then picked for Slytherin, "Finch-Fletchley, Justin" for Hufflepuff, and "Finnigan, Seamus" for Gryffindor, who actually took a bit longer under the Hat than everyone else.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.

"It's not that bad," Harry whispered with a sudden grin. "Maybe you'll be in Slytherin."

Ron choked and looked ill. "Harriet, please. I get enough of that from the twins."

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. Harry thought that this was maybe because he kept looking rapidly back and forth between Harry, the Hat, and the floor. And he had a toad! For a pet! Poor Neville.

The hat took a long time to decide with Neville.

When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

"Maybe Slytherin won't be so bad," Ron said with a kind of harrowing tone.

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

"Hmm," Ron now actually looked a bit thoughtful. "You know, perhaps I had Hufflepuff all wrong."

Harry coughed to cover a unmanly giggle; that would not look good for his ongoing "I am not a girl" campaign.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon"…, "Nott"… , "Parkinson"… , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"… , then "Perks, Sally-Anne"… , and then, at last —

"Potter, Harriet!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harriet Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Well now," said a small voice in his ear. "Curious, very curious. I can't say this makes any sense at all to me. Tell me Miss Potter, what should I believe? Your memories or my perceptions?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, wondering almost hopefully.

"You appear to be a girl, yet your memories clearly indicate yourself as a boy. Can you explain this odd discrepancy? That is, which is it?" The hat then chuckled. "Never mind, actually. I can see that you consider yourself a boy."

"You - you actually believe me?" Harry could scarcely believe it himself.

"I do indeed," the Hat said. "Unlike Mr. Ollivander, whom I sorted long ago, I am not encumbered by the morals of a specific era. But I must be frank, Not-Miss Potter. I have never seen a student like you, and I have been Sorting since Hogwarts began."

Harry sighed in disappointment. "So you don't know how to fix it?" A thought occurred to him. "Wait.."

"No, that won't help," the hat interrupted. "I know what you're thinking, of course. But I cannot reveal what I have seen in the memories of other students - although I can admit that even if I could, I still would have no answers. Unfortunately, most students have a very elementary knowledge of magic, and although I sit in the Headmasters' office, that does not necessarily mean I am privy to their magical ponderings."

"Dang it..." Harry grumbled. "There's nothing I can do?"

"Well I wouldn't quite go that far, Not-Miss Potter," the Hat admonished. "In fact, I do have an idea. Some of your Professors may have some knowledge on this odd situation. You may consider asking them about it."

"Do you think they might understand that I'm really a boy like you've figured out?" Harry asked excitedly.

"No, I do not," the hat said with a sigh. "I can see that most people act as though you haven't said anything out of the ordinary when you talk about being a boy. And based on the limited information I have, I doubt the Professors will be able to perceive otherwise. However, there is a slim possibility that the Headmaster might actually be able to help."

"Really?"

"Yes, he does have his skills. I remember when I Sorted him - well, I can't tell you the specifics, but I can say he was not your average student. Or even your average brilliant wizard, for that matter."

Harry considered this and felt a bit more optimistic about the potential future. "Do you think he'll even have time?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a busy man, but I am sure you will find the time eventually." The hat cleared its nonexistent throat. "In any event, I have enjoyed this brief mysterious interlude, but we still need to Sort you."

"Oh, right," Harry said in embarrassment, having kind of forgotten about that.

"Normally you would do well in several houses, I think," the Hat mused. "But your specific 'condition' changes things. Ravenclaw wouldn't treat you well, and Hufflepuff wouldn't have the needed support."

"I'd rather not be in Slytherin," Harry admitted. "You know, with Volotredi and Malfoy."

"I see your point," the hat said. "Very well then, better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked in a bit of a haze toward the Gryffindor table. Percy the Prefect got up and bowed deeply, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Well at least they weren't catcalling. That would not have been pleasant.

"Sit over here, Harriet!" It was one the twin girls, Something Patil, sitting next to Lavender Brown, the first Gryffindor sorted. Beaming, she patted the seat next to her. Well, why not? It wasn't like people could accuse Harry of being particularly girlish just because of sitting next to one. Harry sat down next to the dark-skinned and smiling girl.

"I'm Parvati," she whispered loudly. "And this is Lavender!"

Lavender waved a bit shyly. Harry felt a little bad for her, considering the Weasley twins rudeness. Unless Lavender actually liked that sort of thing - with actual girls, who could figure?

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry whispered back, just as loudly.

Parvati giggled. "Yes, I know." Of course she did.

Harry looked over at the High Table, finally able to see the various Professors sitting there. Hagrid was there, naturally, who caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train.

Hopefully he wouldn't disappear like on his card - although that might be amusing to watch.

Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron, now wearing an ugly purple turban.

He certainly didn't look any less nervous wearing the hideous thing.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table.

"Hi there," Dean said with a smile, holding out his hand.

"Hello yourself," Harry said, accepting the handshake. But then, to Harry's horror, Dean actually tried to kiss his hand! Well, Harry wasn't about to let that one happen again. He grabbed back his hand and smacked Dean's fairly hard.

"Watch yourself and don't kiss people who don't ask for it!" Harry scowled to Dean's gobsmacked expression.

"Ooh, well done Harriet!" Lavender said admiringly.

Harry nodded his thanks to Lavender and turned back to the Sorting.

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now.

Harry caught Ron's eye and mouthed "Hufflepuff" with a big smile.

Ron's mouth quirked up a bit at that.

But Harry still crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it, Ron?" Harry asked with a grin.

"I suppose not," Ron said with a kind of sudden realization.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he — a bit mad?" he asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harriet?"

Harry's mouth fell open.

The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. Now this was some of the best magic yet. The students tucked in with the unique eagerness of hungry eleven-year-olds, not even bothering to talk much at all. Finally as dessert appeared on the tables in another impressive magical feat, the first-years began to slow down and relax.

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the various first years began chatting.

"Why do you suppose some people stay longer under the Hat than others?" Hermione asked, a bit imperiously.

Seamus Finnigan, who had been under the Hat longer than everyone but Neville and Harry chuckled. "Who can say, really? All pretty normal, I guess, although Harriet was under the longest, weren't she?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm sure that _Harry_ and the Hat had a decent conversation about reasonable things, you can be sure."

"You had an actual... conversation?" Neville asked, who then looked shocked that he even managed to ask anything at all.

"I _highly_ doubt that," Hermione sniffed. "There's nothing that special about Harriet Potter, after all."

"Are you balmy?" Ron asked in a sort of shocked manner. "She beat You-Know-Who! You should know that much, with all the books you've _memorized_." He sneered a bit with this last word.

"And I'm sure you've read nothing at all," Hermione sniped. "So keep your ill-informed opinions to yourself."

"So anyway," Harry interjected, worrying that the two might actually come to blows. "Parvati, was it?" he asked the twin girl.

She nodded with an amused smile, probably having spotted Harry's little distraction attempt.

"Is your family magical as well?"

"Yes, it is," Parvati answered. "The Patils have been magical for many generations, actually, although we only moved to this country three hundred years ago."

Harry blinked. "That's quite a long time."

Parvati giggled. "Harriet, you know, the Potters have been in the country for over two thousand years."

"They have?" Harry suddenly realized he knew very little about his family history.

"And the Browns have been here over a thousand," she said, indicating Lavender, who looked surprised to be included in the conversation.

"Well, that kind of thing isn't that important, right Harriet?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I don't think who are your parents are should really matter."

Seamus laughed at this. "I hear ya, girl. I'm half-and-half. Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"My p-parents were both magical, too," Neville ventured nervously. "But nobody thought I'd be able to do any magic - they thought I'd be all-Muggle for ages."

"Well, you're obviously magical, since you've been Sorted and all," Harry reasoned.

Neville blinked in surprise. "Yes, I suppose so."

Harry yawned, starting to feel a bit warm and sleepy, and looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing."

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look — a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to — everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.

"I'm sorry to bring this up, Harriet," Parvati said. "But we are all really so excited so finally meet you. Right, Lavender?"

Lavender nodded a bit apprehensively.

"It was all a surprise to me about my so-called fame," Harry put in. "I didn't know everyone knew my name or a story about some Dark Lady who I somehow killed as a baby."

"I believe that entirely," Hermione muttered.

"It's still such a thrill to actually be here with you," Parvati said, ignoring Hermione. "Us pure-bloods have heard loads of stories about you growing up - who knows how true they were of course - but I'd never have guessed you'd be so pretty in person!"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn't appreciated such compliments before, but it somehow seemed rather different coming from a girl. Perhaps because she wasn't trying to be all creepy. Harry felt he needed to say something in response, although he wasn't entirely sure what the appropriate compliment might be.

"Well, I mean, you're pretty too," Harry managed to get out. "Um." Harry thought frantically for a minute, then recalled a compliment "Harriet" had received already. "You have really nice hair."

"Oh, really do you think so?" Parvati said, twirling her fingers in her hair. "Thank you so much!"

"You both are pretty," Lavender said gloomily. "Much more than me." She looked at Harry almost expectantly.

Harry wondered if being an actual girl would give some insight on how to respond, but ah well - better go with the same idea.

"That's nonsense," Harry retorted with a smile. "And besides, you have a great smile; you really need to show it more."

Lavender beamed widely at that, looking like she truly appreciated Harry's rapidly improvised words.

"See, there you are," Harry said, honestly taken aback at Lavender's behavior.

Hermione huffed fairly noticeably.

Parvati narrowed her eyes. "What's your problem, Granger?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione huffed. "You lot going on about ridiculous nonsense. Prettiness, hair, clothes, makeup - when there are far more important things to be worried about."

Harry glanced at Ron, but the redhead looked like he didn't want to get involved. The other boys around the table were also each pretending not to listen. How curious.

"Is that right?" Parvati said acidly. "You think that's all we care about, is that it?"

Hermione sneered at the other girl. "The evidence is more than clear, isn't it?"

"Why you..." Parvati then took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself. "Perhaps we like that sort of girlish thing, but it's not like we don't know what's important. We all lost family in the last war. Did you?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable, but also like she didn't really want to back down. "I'm sorry for your loss," she began. "But that's hardly what I meant. I merely referred to your lack of interest in magical studies. But perhaps that's due to your magical upbringing." Hermione glanced at Harry. "Or perhaps not."

Parvati threw up her hands in exasperation. "Oh, you are impossible."

"Um," Neville started to speak.

"Neville's right," Parvati said in a suddenly calm voice. "We shouldn't argue on our first night here. After all, we'll be living together in the girl's dorm for the next seven years, we ought to try to get along at least. Right, Harriet?"

"Right," Harry nodded then paused. "Wait, what?" Which dorm did she say?

The rest of the evening passed in a blur for Harry. Dumbledore's speech of welcome, warnings about the dangers of the Forbidden Forest and something on the third-floor corridor, and finally a crazy, off-key mass song.

Soon enough they were in the Gryffindor common room. Harry stood before the door to the girl's dorm, not quite able to move. He had not thought this part through at all.

"Is there a problem, Miss Potter?" Percy asked politely.

"Aren't you coming, Harriet?" Parvati asked, already halfway through the door. Hermione had hurried on before them, of course.

"No," Harry said slowly. "I suppose it wouldn't make sense for me to sleep in the boy's dorm, would it?" He chuckled nervously.

Percy smiled and nodded. "Ah, I see the problem. Don't worry, Miss Potter, the boys won't be able to disturb you in your dorm. The stairs turn into a slide if a boy steps on them."

"They do?" Harry asked in alarm.

"Yes, so don't worry your head about it."

"Does the same thing happen if girls try going to the boy's dorm?" Harry asked.

Parvati looked at Percy, also curious about this bit of information.

"Well, no of course not," Percy sputtered. "Why would it?"

Harry shrugged. "The same reason, I guess. Whatever that is."

"Um, Miss Potter, you don't have any particular reason to visit the boy's dorm, do you?" Percy asked nervously.

"I suppose not," Harry sighed.

"Then I shall bid you both a good night," Percy said with obvious relief. "I must be off to look after my other duties. Good night."

Harry mumbled a good night in response.

"Okay, let's go!" Parvati said excitedly.

"Sure, I'm coming." Harry followed behind Parvati slowly. Behind the door was a spiral staircase, and Parvati raced up it, then noticed that Harry hadn't yet followed.

"Come on then, Harriet, it won't turn into a slide on you!" she chided.

But was that certain? Harry raised a foot to step onto the stairs, honestly completely unsure of what he wanted to happen. Would the stairs realize he was a boy and spit him back? Or worse, would they think he was a girl? Could stairs even think, like the Sorting Hat?

Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself. He couldn't stay there all day after all, and his leg was beginning to get twitchy. Harry stepped onto the first step.

And then he stepped to the next one.

The entire staircase shuddered, and the stairs bent a bit then stayed still. Harry glanced at the staircase disbelievingly.

"That was odd," Parvati said, scratching her head. "Well, no matter, I'm going to get a bed. Hurry up!" She raced away.

Harry sighed and trudged up the remainder of the steps. The staircase shivered a bit but stayed mostly steady. A compromise, it seemed. Well, that Harry could live with.

The girls bustled around the room, unpacking and fussing about.

But Harry was too exhausted to even stand, and collapsed into the remaining bed. He could unpack tomorrow.

* * *

The next day Harry awoke quite early, as was usual for him. Parvati was already awake as well, and Hermione was reading a book on her bed. Well that wasn't really a surprise at all.

"Oh, good morning Harriet!" Parvati said with a smile. "You went to sleep in your clothes!"

Harry laughed nervously. "Yes, I suppose I did." Then he frowned. He supposed he'd need to change for the next day, but he didn't feel right.

Parvati began to change out of her nightclothes, and Harry began to feel horribly embarrassed.

"Um, wait!" he shouted, waking Lavender as well. Harry winced. That had been a bit obvious.

"What's wrong, Harriet?" Parvati asked curiously.

"I can't change around you," Harry explained. "I'm, uh, shy." That was a good reason, wasn't it? And somewhat true as well.

"You're shy?" Parvati frowned. "You've never changed around other girls before?" Lavender rubbed her eyes and watched Harry for a response. Even Hermione seemed to be paying attention, although she tried to hide it.

Harry had never changed around anyone else before, but he didn't want to bring that up. He had a sudden flash of inspiration. "It wasn't considered a proper thing to do at my relatives," Harry said, congratulating himself on his genius. "I always had to change privately."

"Harriet." Parvati paused and looked almost pained. "Your relatives - they didn't... mistreat you, did they?"

Now Hermione had abandoned the pretense of reading her book.

But what was the big deal, anyway?

"No, not really," Harry assured the girls. "I mean, they never hit me or anything. Sure, Dudley did, but that's not the same thing really."

"Dudley?" Lavender managed to ask.

"My cousin. Same age, about. But like I said, nothing serious. Well, not that serious, anyway."

"He hit you?" Parvati asked in outrage.

"Um, can we not talk about this? I still need to change."

Instantly Parvati's face turned into from furious to sympathetic. "Of course, Harriet. You can use the washroom, and just come out when you're done. We'll wait, won't we?" This last question was asked a bit forcefully, and the look in her eyes seemed to mean there was only one correct answer.

Lavender just nodded and looked sad.

Hermione sighed and looked utterly devastated. "Yes, of course, we'll wait."

Harry changed as quickly as possible, completely baffled by their responses. What was their problem anyhow? Harry eventually chalked it up to something only a girl would understand. And anyway, who cared about all that when there was magic to learn?

The first few days were a mix of excitement and frustration. Harry walked around mainly with Ron, although he often was with Parvati and Lavender, who now looked at him with a disturbing look of sympathy. Ron didn't do anything like that, at least. Hermione was actively ignoring them, and Neville was still far too nervous to speak to Harry at all. The other Gryffindor boys, Harry didn't really know, so he mostly avoided them too.

Although he made sure to glare at Dean occasionally just for fun.

Harry remembered the Sorting Hat's advice to speak to the Professors about his odd girl curse, but he wasn't sure even who to ask. Professor Sprout, who taught Herbology, and Professor Sinistra, who taught Astronomy, were women, but that only made Harry more nervous to talk about girl-related issues. He still barely knew them, after all. And Professor Binns, the History Professor, was so boring it didn't matter that he was a ghost and probably knew some history.

He seemed to get things mixed up often, so Harry didn't think Binns was worth asking.

Professor McGonagall taught Transfiguration, and was not only extremely competent, she was also Harry's Head of House. Harry wasn't quite able to muster the courage to speak to her the first class, but he resolved to talk to her the next week.

Professor Flitwick, the charms teacher, was short and friendly, a sort of backwards Hagrid, but was clearly an excellent teacher. Harry thought that perhaps Flitwick would be decent sort to ask as well, but he didn't have the time the first week.

And Quirrell... well, he may have been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts after all, but he seemed completely bumbling and useless. That disappointed the other students as well, and Harry didn't even bother considering asking Quirrell about anything.

Friday was an important day - they were finally having their remaining class Potions, a double period with the Slytherins. Harry had managed to avoid seeing Malfoy and wasn't looking forward to seeing the creep again.

"I'm not looking forward to this," Ron muttered worriedly, his mouth full of breakfast. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them — we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry.

"McGonagall doesn't favor anyone," Parvati sighed. "Hardly seems fair."

"I think it's very fair," Hermione said with a sniff.

"You would." Ron grumbled under his breath.

Before they left, Harry received an invitation to have tea with Hagrid. Well, that ought to be pleasant at least.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape started the class by taking the roll call and paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harriet Potter. Our new — celebrity."

Harry blinked in confusion, not sure of what the Professor was getting at.

Draco Malfoy sneered and turned away from Harry in a huff. Harry couldn't really be bothered to care about that.

Snape had finally finished taking roll call.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Snape then looked over at Harry, a very odd expression on his face.

"Miss Potter, as our resident celebrity, did you study your Potions material in advance?"

"Um, as much as I could sir," Harry said honestly. "I couldn't learn much without actually doing it, of course."

"Yes, indeed," Snape said in a kind of choked voice. "You know.."

The Potions Professor paused and looked over at Harry.

Snape's eyes glittered oddly. "You look quite a bit like your mother, Miss Potter."

Harry didn't know why, but he felt extremely uncomfortable at that moment.

* * *

_Next time..._

_A Broom, A Duel, and a Troll_

_"I don't recognize you!" Filch sputtered angrily. "Who are you?"_

_Harry didn't answer, but just ran._

Sorry about that ending.


	4. 4: Flight and Fright

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Note: The pace will be speeding up a bit here on...**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER FOUR: FLIGHT AND FRIGHT**

Harry swallowed nervously, trying to suppress the odd uncomfortable feeling he was getting from Professor Snape. "I've heard that I look similar to both my parents." Still true, even if everyone else saw it backwards.

"Yes," Snape said slowly. "But your dominant features are your mother's."

The way he said this piqued Harry's curiosity despite his discomfort. "Did you know my mother, Professor?"

Snape looked almost stricken, but he quickly composed himself. "Yes, I did. She was quite talented in Potion-brewing. Do you believe you can live up to her standards?"

Harry gulped. "I hope so, sir."

"Then perhaps you can answer this question: What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry frowned, stroking his chin in thought. A kind of a Potions riddle, was it? Harry honestly did not remember much about either of the plants. Wormwood sounded familiar - it was some sort of bitter herb. Harry had a vague memory of the word Asphodel, but the only plant Harry could think that sounded similar was Athelas - but Harry doubted that any connection existed between the two.

"I assume the answer is a potion, of course, but does it just have those two ingredients?" Harry asked. "I can't even think of any potions that only use two ingredients; in fact, isn't there some sort of Potions Rule that you need more than two ingredients for a potion to be stable?"

At this, Hermione shot her hand into the air with a determined expression on her face.

Snape nodded, ignoring her. "Belby's Rule of Minimal Counteractions. Although we normally don't discuss that theory until the second term. You are correct that there is no potion that only utilizes those two components; however, there is one potion that is well known for using that particular combination."

Harry considered this and tried to think over what he had read in the thick tome _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_. He certainly didn't remember anything about this potion from _Magical Drafts and Potions_, but perhaps if could remember exactly what asphodel was...

"Is... asphodel a flower?" Harry paused, remembering something at last. "I think it's supposed to be connected to graves or immortality. So maybe the potion is something to do with death?"

"You are on the right track, Miss Potter," Snape said, looking oddly pleased. "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. As you surmised, other ingredients are needed: valerian roots and essence of sopophorous bean. Although you would not normally brew it until your sixth year."

"Oh," Harry said, brightening. "I was wondering why I didn't remember reading about it in the first year text."

"Indeed. Perhaps a question that is covered in that text?"

Harry now felt the need to prove himself, so he nodded confidently. Hermione had finally put her hand down after Snape had answered the question.

"Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Now this definitely sounded familiar to Harry... unfortunately, he recalled that it was near the end of the textbook, in a section he had only skimmed over. He wracked his memory, trying to think of anything relevant. Hermione, of course, had shot up her hand again.

Harry sighed. "I can't recall the specifics - but I know it has something to do with hair... maybe you find by gathering together the fur of a magical animal?"

Snape smirked. "Close, Miss Potter, very close indeed. A bezoar is a stone comprised of hardened fibers and hairs, usually taken from the stomach of a goat - a mere mundane beast. If taken, it can absorb most poisons and act as an antidote."

"Oh, that sounds right," Harry said, although it was always easier to remember after you already knew the answer.

"Perhaps one more, then? An easier one: What is the difference between aconite and monkshood?"

Hermione was now waving her hand in the air almost frantically.

"Quit that, will you?" Ron whispered angrily. "He's not asking you!"

Hermione shot Ron a vicious glare but didn't put down her hand.

"That is quite enough showing off, Miss Granger," Snape snarled. "That will be ten points from Gryffindor for your impertinence. And another five from Mr. Weasley for whispering in class."

It was actually kind of amusing how Ron and Hermione's shocked expressions mirrored each other, but then they caught a glimpse of the other and resorted to glaring.

"So, Miss Potter, do you know the answer?"

Harry had an idea, but he wasn't sure. "I know that aconite is a kind of poison, and I think I remember from our Defense text that it can be used against wolves. But I can't remember what monkshood is, sir. Sorry." Harry felt a bit like he was letting his mother down - girl or no girl.

"Half right, Miss Potter. Aconite is also called wolfsbane due to its poisonous qualities, but it is also called monkshood because of its appearance."

Harry chuckled. Very clever. "Ah, a trick question. I should've guessed."

Snape looked oddly amused. "Yes, you probably should have." He then looked at the rest of the class with a glare. "Well? Why aren't the rest of you writing all this down? Think you're better than Miss Potter?"

The rest of the class proceeded relatively smoothly. Snape mostly left Harry alone after that, although he took more points off both Hermione and Ron, and another off Neville when the poor boy ruined his potion.

It was clear that Hermione and Ron were both furious with Snape, but they didn't seem to want give the other the satisfaction of hearing any complaints.

As they packed up to leave, Snape motioned to Harry. "A word, Miss Potter."

Hermione looked at Harry with pursed lips, like she had bitten on a lemon, looking extremely displeased. Ron saw this and exchanged glances with Harry.

"Don't take too long, Harry," Ron said. "Or I think Hermione's head might explode." He then ducked to avoid Hermione swinging her bag at his head.

"Miss Granger!" Snape snapped. "Fighting in my classroom doorway? That will be a detention, I think. And five points from Mr. Weasley for instigation."

Ron grinned at Hermione, clearly looking as though he had gotten the better of that particular exchange. Hermione huffed and stormed out of the classroom, Ron slowly following behind.

Once the door shut, Snape finally spoke. "Miss Potter, you recall that I did know your mother earlier. However, going into detail would not have been an appropriate use of class time."

Harry nodded. Made sense.

Snape frowned a bit enigmatically. "Your mother was an excellent student and well-respected. Your father, on the other hand, was an ill-mannered scoundrel who lazed his way through classes. I should hope you would know whom to emulate?"

Well, there wasn't much confusion about which answer Snape expected - and Harry wasn't foolish enough to call into question Snape's judgment of James Potter just then.

"I do, sir."

Snape nodded slightly. "I hope so. Leave now - I have work to do."

Harry nodded in return and sped out of the room.

The conversation raised even more questions. How exactly did Snape know his parents? Perhaps someone else might know - someone who also knew his parents? And as luck would have it, Harry realized he had a meeting that afternoon with someone who had known them quite well.

* * *

"Aye, Snape and yer mum were friends for a while." Hagrid then frowned, as if a sudden thought had just occurred to him. "Snape... ah, he, er, hasn't said somethin' odd has he?"

"I think Snape's just a blighty bugger," Ron said, sipping his tea.

"Yeh shouldn't use that kinda language, Ron," Hagrid admonished. "But I'll admit that, yeah, Snape is a bit of an old git at times."

Ron looked positively thrilled that Hagrid had said this.

"But he was friends with my mother?" Harry asked again. It didn't even seem plausible... Harry more expected Snape to be friends with Petunia than his mother.

"Well, they had a bit o' a fallin' out later on..." Hagrid said slowly. "But I dunno if I should be tellin' yeh about all that."

"Hagrid!" Harry said in surprise. "I thought we were friends!" Harry then immediately felt guilty for this remark, considering that Hagrid was probably the first friend he had ever made. "Forget I said that," Harry said quickly. "Of course I know that we're friends. I suppose if you think there's a good reason for not telling me, I'm sure I can trust you."

Hagrid now appeared extremely pained and more than a little guilty. "Sorry, Harriet, but maybe when yeh're a bit older?"

"I'm going to hold you to that," Harry said with a smile, trying to hide his disappointment.

* * *

During the next week's Charm class, Harry decided that he would try broaching the subject of his odd situation with the diminutive Professor. Once the class ended, Harry indicated to his various acquaintances that he needed to speak to Flitwick briefly and that they should hurry on ahead.

"Did you have a question, Miss Potter?" Flitwick asked with a ready smile. "We haven't really gotten into any of the advanced material yet, so I wasn't expecting much trouble for the students learning the basics."

"Yes, I do have a question," Harry answered. "Although it's not really about anything like homework or the classwork exactly." He paused, thinking about how he ought to proceed. Harry could not just ask about some mysterious curse out of nowhere, it would seem odd or suspicious. But how then to segue from a more mundane topic?

Flitwick frowned thoughtfully. "I think I understand. You are wondering about your parents?"

Harry had not actually been thinking about them, of course, but now he found himself intensely curious. "So you knew them too? Did you go to school with them?"

The Charms Professor laughed. "No, I am not quite that young. I taught Charms when they went to Hogwarts; I have been teaching for a over twenty years now."

"But you did know them?" Harry pressed.

"I did," Flitwick said with a nod. "In fact, your dear mother was one of my star pupils. She was not the top of the class, but very near there. I wouldn't go so far as to call us friends, really, but I was certainly very fond of her; well, both your parents, really."

"Was..." Harry paused, remembering something Snape had mentioned. "Was my father really an ill-mannered scoundrel?"

Flitwick raised an eyebrow. "Interesting choice of words, Miss Potter. Did you hear that from someone?"

"Maybe..." Harry wasn't sure if he could reveal the source of the insult - although perhaps Flitwick would already know all about that. "I suppose if you taught my parents, you must've taught Professor Snape as well?"

"I might have known," Flitwick chuckled. "Yes, he was in the same year as your parents. He was quite close to Lily, but they grew further apart somewhere around their sixth year, if I remember correctly. I'm afraid I'm wasn't privy to the specifics of their disagreements."

"Hagrid seemed to know," Harry muttered gloomily. "But he wouldn't say."

Flitwick blinked in surprise. "Hagrid knows - and he hasn't given it away? That's more restraint than I believed he was capable of." The Professor paused and fixed Harry with a serious look. "But mind you, that doesn't mean you should be pestering him about the details. Although..." Flitwick glanced out of the room, seemingly to check if they were alone.

"Severus... Professor Snape, that is. He hasn't behaved... inappropriately, has he?"

"Hagrid asked something similar," Harry said. "But unless you mean giving detentions and points kind of unfairly, although he hasn't given me either, I wouldn't call anything he's done inappropriate."

"He hasn't... well, made you feel uncomfortable?" Flitwick then seemed to realize something. "Or if you don't feel comfortable about it, you can speak to your Head of House. I know Minerva seems imposing at times, but she can be a very fine confidante, I assure you."

Harry shrugged. "There's really nothing to confide. But I'll keep it in mind. Although there is something else. It's more of a... theory question, I guess."

"Intellectual query, eh? Well, being Ravenclaw Head of House, I can hardly turn away from any intellectual curiosity. Please ask away."

Now how to phrase it just the right way...?

"Is there... a way to use magic to make someone appear to be someone else? I mean, like making a boy appear to be a girl?"

"You don't mean merely changing shape, like advanced transfiguration?" Flitwick asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, not actually changing from a boy to a girl, only appearing that way."

"Ah, I think I know what you're asking about!" Flitwick said with a smile. "I believe you are speaking of illusions - a fairly advanced topic, but no matter. They allow tricking the senses into seeing something that is not truly there."

"That sounds about right," Harry said excitedly. "Is there a way to cancel it?"

Flitwick frowned. "Well, illusions are fairly transitory - that is, fragile and easy to dispel. Merely sufficient willpower can be enough to see through an illusion. And of course, they don't last long."

Harry's heart sank. That did not sound right at all. "How long do you mean?" he asked desperately. "Could they last weeks or months?"

"It sounds like you are referring to phantasms, the legendary illusions that could actually interact with normal reality. But that is all they are, legends. No modern wizard has been able to replicate any of the legendary phantasms, they are considered myths, like the Deathly Hallows or the Fountain of Fair Fortune."

"What are those? I've never heard of either one."

"Oh," Flitiwck said in realization. "I had forgotten you had been raised with your Muggle relatives. Those are old Wizarding legends and mythical stories. It is my understanding that Muggles have some similar, but rarely intersecting legends of their own."

Harry sighed sadly. "So this doesn't even seem like a real thing to you? Just an old myth?"

Flitwick looked thoughtful. "Why does this bother you so, Miss Potter? It seems more than a simple academic inquiry."

How to possibly approach it? Perhaps the truth?

"I'm really a boy," Harry tried. "I'm under some spell that makes everyone treat me like I'm a girl. But I'm not lying; even the Sorting Hat knows."

"I don't think I follow," Flitwick said in confusion.

Harry cursed internally. That hadn't worked. He needed to improvise. "You said my mum was good at Charms, right?"

Flitwick nodded.

"So I think she was studying something that had to with defeating Volotredi."

Flitwick winced, but nodded.

"Sorry, I mean You-Know-Who. I think my mother was trying to figure out a way to defeat the Dark Lady - and maybe it worked."

"You mean she tried to curse You-Know-Who to be a man?"

"No, no," Harry answered, shaking his head. "Well, I don't think so. If so, it didn't work, right?"

Flitwick conceded this with a nod.

"That's why I 'm trying to figure out more about it," Harry went on, feeling pretty clever. "I think it might be key to figuring out why I survived."

"Fascinating," Flitwick mused. "But how did you find out about your mother's work?"

Oops...

"Um, well, I found some old diaries of hers," Harry lied. "I can't say I understand them at all, of course. And um, they were pretty incomplete, just general notes," Harry added this, realizing that Flitwick might actually ask to see them. Then he came up with an even more plausible lie. "But then my Aunt threw them all out, so I never even finished them."

Flitwick looked horrified. "Merlin's beard! Why on earth would she destroy your mother's research?"

"You don't know Petunia... she hates magic," Harry said easily. This of course was no lie at all.

"Awful," Flitwick said mournfully, shaking his head. "All that lost knowledge. Well, Miss Potter, I am afraid that I don't know of any real spell that could alter someone into appearing as the opposite gender." He paused and smiled. "However, that does not mean we have a dead end. I shall be happy to research it and tell you my findings. I have some resources that even the Hogwarts library does not have, so perhaps they shall bear fruit."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said gratefully. "And... I promise to try to live up to my mother's example."

Flitwick chuckled pleasantly. "Miss Potter, this is only your second week of class. I have a feeling you will do quite well indeed."

* * *

The following day, Harry awoke with a bit of a start, quite nervous. Not only did he plan to speak to McGonagall after class today , but the first-years were finally getting a chance to learn how to fly.

Harry had been eagerly anticipating this chance for days, but he was also dreading speaking to McGonagall, who still intimidated him greatly - even with Flitwick's encouraging remarks. Well, at least he could still use the same lies.

As he had been doing for the last week, Harry quickly washed and changed privately before returning to the main room. He had been getting better at timing it so that he didn't catch the other girls changing, although there had been a few accidental glimpses. Harry didn't know if he'd be similarly embarrassed changing in front of boys if he didn't have his girl curse, but it just seemed... inappropriate to see girls that way.

Harry smoothed out his robe in preparation for the day; once his other clothes were already on, he didn't really have a problem with putting on the outer robe in front of the others.

"Harriet, are you sure you don't want help with your hair or something?" Parvati asked, who was brushing Lavender's hair.

"Do you think it looks bad?" Harry asked, touching his hair a bit self-consciously. Then he remembered that his hair supposedly didn't look exactly the same - it appeared messy and unwieldy when he viewed himself in the mirror. But did _Harriet's_ hair also appear unkempt?

"Oh, no, no!" Parvati quickly replied. "Just saying that if you need our help, we'd be happy to do whatever."

Lavender smiled at Harriet in agreement and then winced when Parvati pulled at something in her hair.

Harry didn't exactly feel like he wanted any part of that.

"No, I'm fine," Harry said. "Besides, my hair would get messed up later anyway. Flying lessons, remember?"

"Oh, I'm worried I'll fall off!" Lavender grimaced.

"There's nothing to worry about," Parvati soothed. "They've been teaching Flying for ages, and the only accidents that ever happen are during Quidditch games. And we're too young for that, anyway."

Hermione looked up from _Quidditch Through the Ages_ with a very nervous expression on her face. "Where did you read about all that? I haven't found any such statistics."

Parvati rolled her eyes. "I didn't _read_ it anywhere, Hermione. I'm sure I just heard it somewhere."

Hermione did not look very reassured. At all.

"Just so you know," Harry said. "I'm going to speak to Professor McGonagall after class today too, so you can go on to lunch without me. I'll come by a bit later, it shouldn't take too long."

"What did you even talk to Flitwick about yesterday anyway?" Parvati asked. "It seemed kinda important."

Harry shrugged. Might as well keep using the same lie. "Just something to do with some research my mum did before she died. Some of the Professors knew her pretty well, so I'm getting some information from them about figuring out all that."

"You're getting to do an independent research project?" Hermione asked in outrage, sounded angrier than Harry had ever remembered. "Whatever for?"

Harry opened his mouth to refute this, but then realized that in a matter of speaking, this was _precisely_ what he was doing. "Like I said, it's something my mum was working on. What's wrong with that?" Harry felt honestly confused about why Hermione was so incensed.

"Ignore her," Parvati said. "I think it is perfectly wonderful that you are trying to continue your mother's work. I can talk to Padma to see if she knows anything, if you like."

"Who's Padma again?"

Lavender giggled. "That's Parvati's sister, silly. She's in Ravenclaw, remember? So I'm sure studying something will be fascinating for her."

Parvati nodded. "Yeah, that's probably true. I love her, but she can be a bit mad about books and studying. Sort of like Granger."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked indignantly.

Harry felt the situation beginning to escalate towards argument, and wished that Hermione would go back to just ignoring them. "Look at it this way Hermione," Harry said in sudden realization. "At least you're not nervous about Flying anymore, right?"

Hermione's face paled and she buried herself back in the book.

Oops.

* * *

McGonagall seemed even more surprised than Flitwick that Harry had approached her for help.

"Forgive me, Miss Potter, you just caught me a tad off guard. In truth, neither of your parents ever asked for help this early on the term. Although I suppose it would be foolish indeed to assume you are identical to either one. Especially considering..." She trailed off, looking suddenly worried.

"Miss Potter, I apologize for the following question, and please let me know if you do not wish to answer."

Harry blinked in surprise and nodded, wondering what this question could be.

"I know you were raised by your Muggle relatives. Were there any... problems growing up with them?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Did the Dursleys act inappropriately towards you at any point? More than what could be considered proper, I mean."

Harry sighed. "I've heard this type of question already, ma'am. They never hit me or anything, although they let Dudley do whatever he wanted. Although really, that's not a big deal - I got pretty good at running away. Sure, I mean I had to do chores and whatever, and yeah, if I could stay here over the summer instead of going back, obviously I'd prefer to do that." Harry stopped, realizing he had said quite a bit more than he had intended. "But that's not why I came here, of course. And before you ask, no, Professor Snape hasn't been weird either."

McGonagall pursed her lips in annoyance. "I hadn't considered Severus as of yet, but I am pleased to hear that has not behaved inappropriately. You say the Dursleys had you doing chores; anything out of the ordinary?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't think so. Typical stuff, cooking, laundry, pulling weeds, that sort of thing. Hardly pleasant, but it's not like it was torture. Not quite, anyway." Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Wait, how do you know the Dursleys?"

"I am, shall we say, somewhat familiar with those particular Muggles. I never approved of you living there, but Albus... well, that is not important. How long have you been required to do these chores?"

"Um, for as long as I can remember," Harry said, scratching his head. "Probably since I was six or so."

McGonagall's eyes flashed in fury, then she visibly calmed herself. "I will look into this, I assure you."

"Wait, wait, that's not what I came to talk to you about at all!" Harry said in frantic protest. "You don't need to look into anything... although..."

"Although?" McGonagall asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well..." Harry said slowly. "I suppose if you _could_ find a different place for me to live, I would hardly say no to that."

McGonagall smiled slightly. "I think I can adhere to that request."

"But getting back to why I was here in the first place," Harry began, wondering if something actually good might come out of this conversation. He hadn't really wanted to complain about the Dursleys - but if the Professor could somehow arrange for him to leave the Dursleys, never to return? Harry didn't think Vernon would be the only one celebrating that particular joyous circumstance.

Harry quickly explained his mysterious problem to the Professor, utilizing the same lie he had used with Flitwick. After all, they might compare notes, and it was always easier to keeping lying once you'd started.

"That is an odd question, indeed, Miss Potter," McGonagall said with an intrigued tone. "If you had asked about permanent gender Transfiguration or switching, there would be much I could discuss, but a sort of illusionary trick? I can't say I'm familiar with anything of that nature. Have you spoken to Professor Flitwick about it?"

Harry nodded. "He said he'd research it."

"Then he is probably the best source of information. I will see if I have anything on it, but I do not find it likely. Still, it seems an interesting mystery. And I will certainly speak to those... who need to be spoken to regarding your relatives." She smiled, which didn't seem so out of place on her anymore. "Now you had better head off to lunch before it's all gone. You'll need your energy for your flying lessons later."

* * *

Harry had experienced some wondrous things in the realm of Magic: Giving Dudley a pig tail, the sheer jumbled insanity of Diagon Alley, the majestic Great Hall, and the burst of energy every time a new spell was learned... But it was nothing compared to the sheer grandeur and adrenaline rush of Flying. And Harry had his favorite prat Malfoy to thank for it.

"I don't even see why they bother teaching girls," Malfoy drawled as they waited outside for the Flying instructor. "Everyone knows that the best players are always male."

"What about the Harpies then?" Parvati spat angrily. Malfoy's comments didn't seem to be gaining him any friends, even among his fellow Slytherins - which included a few girls, of course.

"Pff, they've barely won any championships since the '50's."

Ron laughed. "That's a fairly stupid response, Malfoy. Better not let Madame Hooch hear you going on about girl's abilities in Quidditch."

"What was that, Mr. Weasley?" The Flying instructor, Madame Hooch had just appeared. Harry was pleased to note that Malfoy was now keeping his stupid, cowardly mouth shut.

It all happened fairly quickly after that. Neville's accident, breaking his wrist. Malfoy pinching the Remembrall... And Malfoy's utter horror when Harry flew up with an ease he had never felt for anything else. The expression on Draco's face was probably one of the best parts of the day.

And if he got to leave the Dursleys because of a short conversation? Well, then it could end up being the best day ever.

But he had to get through one minor obstacle first.

"Are you going to expel me?" Harry asked McGonagall as she led him through various hallways.

"What? No, of course not," McGonagall shook her head. "You may have broken the rules, but I know you didn't intend to do it for ill reasons." She paused and stood, looking back at Harry. "I hadn't told you, but your father was one of my favorite students. He had a real skill for Transfiguration, and he was a fair hand on a broom as well. Although if I must be honest, I do not think he was nearly as skilled as you appear to be."

Harry felt a sudden thrill at the comparison to his father. Finally a comparison that wasn't to his mother. He was glad to be compared to either of his parents, of course, but it was different to be complimented that he was similar or even better than his father. "So he wasn't an 'ill-mannered scoundrel', then?" Harry asked wryly.

McGonagall snorted, shocking Harry, who would not have expected the Professor to be capable of such an act. "I think I can guess who said that to you. Professor Snape and your father were not exactly friends at school, so you can be sure than such words are not unbiased in the slightest. James was a bit of prankster in his younger years, but he certainly matured in a fine young man. You need not worry about your father's reputation - he was a truly good man."

Harry sighed, feeling like a weight had been relieved from his shoulders. "That's good to hear, Professor. But... if you're not going to expel me, where are we going?"

McGonagall sighed. "I am not sure if you are ready... But I suppose it would be hypocritical to treat you differently than if you are were a boy. We already have girls on the team after all."

That got Harry's attention instantly. "Professor, I would have to say I'd prefer if you _didn't _treat me as just a girl."

McGonagall smiled slightly. "Miss Potter, what would you say if I told you we needed a seeker for our House Quidditch team?"

* * *

The girls were extremely excited to hear the news, excluding Hermione, who didn't seem to understand the appeal of Quidditch and didn't approve of anything involving Harry in any event.

"Blimey, Harriet," Ron said at the table. "That's pretty exciting. Youngest to be on the team in a century!"

"And youngest girl in over that much," Parvati pointed out.

Ron glanced at Harriet and shook his head. "Well, that much doesn't matter, does it? I hear the Gryffindor Chasers are the best at school, at least that's what Fred and George say, and they're girls."

Lavender beamed and nodded in approval of the sentiment.

"Me? I don't care how they look as long as they win," Seamus put in. "But luckily they all happen to be lovely birds. Eh, Dean?"

Dean shook his head and watched Harry worriedly. "You leave me out of this."

"Ridiculous," Hermione muttered. "I mean, it's all well and good to support equality, but what is the appeal of flying about on a frail stick made of wood throwing balls at each other?"

Seamus grinned widely and seemed about to say something, but Dean caught his eye and shook his head frantically.

Harry just was happy to get a chance to fly consistently. This was starting to become one of the best days ever after all.

As the group left the table, Malfoy approached them, flanked by his ever-present bodyguards. "Surprised to see you still here, Potter. I thought you had fainted in fright after your madcap nonsense earlier. Or is this just your last meal before being expelled? Oh, wait a moment, I forgot," Draco rolled his eyes. "You are the teachers' pet after all, so they'd never get _you_ in trouble. Although I wonder what you've done to make them let you get off with everything... trading favors, are we?"

Ron jumped up from his seat in fury, in what was now becoming a bit of pattern for him. "Shut your bloody gob, Malfoy! You wouldn't be so brave without your stupid friends!"

Hermione gasped in horror. "Language! Someone may overhear!"

"The brave defender of Harriet Potter," Malfoy said sarcastically. "Are you challenging me, then? Brave enough for a wizards' duel!"

"Anytime, Malfoy!" Ron spat.

"But who would be your second, Weasley? They'd obviously end up fighting for you."

"I'll do it," Harry said firmly, hoping he wasn't getting in over his head, especially since he had never even heard of a wizard's duel. "Unless you're afraid of losing to a girl?" Harry felt the reference to himself as a girl was justified in this one instance, in order to humiliate and insult Malfoy. The git seemed to have that kind of effect on him.

"Never!" Malfoy growled. "I'll see you both at midnight, trophy room." He and his lumbering friends strode off.

"Tsk, tsk, Harriet," Parvati shook her head. "You shouldn't let him get to you like that. Malfoy's just a stupid prat."

"What about me?" Ron asked in a wounded manner.

"You should watch your language!" Hermione said angrily. "And what are you even thinking, a duel? You'll get caught and lose us all points!"

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Trust Hermione to not understand what actually matters."

Hermione frowned but didn't say anything, getting a kind of calculating look in her eyes.

Harry didn't like of look of it one bit.

* * *

Harry paced in the common room, waiting for Ron. He'd go up to get him, but Harry was worried about appearances, after what Percy had said. It was bad enough everyone treated him as a girl, but some sort of ill-mannered girl? Harry didn't want to take that chance.

Finally Ron came down the stairs, looking extremely nervous.

"You don't think Malfoy really knows much about duelling, do you?" he asked.

"I doubt it," Harry said, hoping this was the case. "But worst comes to worst, you can always knee him in the groin. Or if you like, I'd be happy to try that myself, any time at all."

Ron laughed. "Glad to hear we have a backup plan."

A voice suddenly came out of the darkness. "I can't believe you two are actually trying something this foolish!" A lamp flickered on, revealing an angry Hermione in her pink bathrobe. "You're bound to lose us a trillion points!"

Ron groaned and held his head in frustration. "We don't need this now, Hermione. Malfoy probably won't even show, and we'll head right back. So just go back to bed."

Harry shook his head, knowing this wouldn't work.

"If you must insist on this foolish nonsense, then I'm coming with you."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, completely surprised by this.

"You need somebody _competent_ there after all," Hermione said snobbishly.

Ron sighed. "I might've known."

"We don't need your help Hermione," Harry said. "But thanks for the offer."

"I'm not going to _help_ you imbeciles do anything!" Hermione refuted. "I'm going to ensure we don't lose any points!"

"Fine, come then!" Ron said in frustration. "We're gonna be late if we don't leave now."

The three walked out of the portrait hole, but as it closed they heard someone racing towards them.

"No, don't let it..." Slam. "Close." It was Neville, looking heartbroken.

"Why are you out here Neville?" Harry asked.

Neville blushed. "Um, I uh forgot the password," he stammered. "I've been out here for hours - the Fat Lady vanished!"

"She probably went to visit someone else," Ron shrugged. "But don't worry, she'll be back eventually."

"W-wait, don't leave me alone!" Neville said desperately. "The... Bloody Baron has been here twice already!"

"We have somewhere to be at midnight," Ron groaned. "And we already have one unwanted guest."

Hermione scowled.

"Just hurry up and come with us Neville," Harry said with a sigh. "It couldn't hurt that much, just keep quiet okay?"

Neville bobbed his head up and down quickly.

Of course, when they came to the trophy room finally, Malfoy was nowhere to be found.

"I ought to have guessed!" Hermione said in annoyance. "This was all a waste of time!"

"Shut up!" Ron said a little loudly.

"Be quiet, both of you!" Harry whispered. "I think I hear Mrs. Norris."

The group began to sneak away quietly, keeping an eye for the cat. Harry moved slowly around a corner, only to stop in shock. Filch was only a few feet away!

"Eh, what's all this? Students out of bed?" The horrid old man cackled. He looked over at Harry and frowned suddenly in confusion.

"I don't recognize you!" Filch sputtered angrily. "Who are you?"

Harry didn't answer, but just ran.

The others saw him coming and raced alongside.

"Come back here, intruder!" Filch yelled. "I don't know who you are, and I know every student in this bloody school! I'll track you down soon enough!"

The foursome ran around, trying to lose Filch, but then found themselves in front of a locked door, which Hermione unlocked with a spell, annoyed.

Harry took note - it seemed a useful one to know.

But they didn't exactly have much time to think much after that... because there was an enormous three-headed dog in the room, looking a bit surprised and then quite angry.

Hermione muffled a shriek, and Neville seemed about to faint.

"Let's go! Filch is better than getting eaten!" Harry pushed the two out of the door and Ron quickly followed behind.

Luckily, they had seemed to lose the caretaker, and the Fat Lady had finally returned to let them in.

"I'm just glad you two didn't cause us to lose any points," Hermione said in satisfaction.

"Okay, it's official - you _are _mad," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Didn't you even notice what the dog was standing on? A trapdoor?" Hermione asked.

Ron looked shocked. "Sorry, but I was bit busy trying not to get eaten!"

A trapdoor... Harry wondered about that.

* * *

As each day passed, Harry began to come up with a fairly typical routine. Get up early and dress before anyone else, then use the time the girls spent getting ready to study in the washroom. Hermione seemed oddly approving of this, unlike anything else Harry had ever done.

Parvati and Lavender were always friendly to Harriet, although Parvati was by far the more outgoing one. Harry still sometimes felt a bit uncomfortable around them, because sometimes they had an oddly sad look in their eyes. And trying to get him to do girlish things... well, Harry tended to laugh that off, but he wasn't sure how much longer that would work. Harry still did not care for Dean, and Seamus often had a disconcerting way of looking at him, so Harry continued to avoid both of them.

Ron was still a great friend, and they were able to share Malfoy insults for hours on end. Harry often tried to speak to Neville, feeling sorry for the boy, but Neville rarely seemed that coherent around him. Harry hoped he'd get over it soon.

Attend classes, practice Quidditch, do homework... it all began to blend together a bit. Harry worked especially hard in Charms and Transfiguration, hoping to live up to his parents' legacies. Of course, he still slept through History, although most of the class did as well. Potions was a bit of a mixed bag; Snape was fairly awful to the other Gryffindors, but Harry felt he was learning quite a lot for his part. Other than Flying, Defense was the subject Harry enjoyed learning and practicing more than any other, but Quirrell was still so ineffective and boring that Harry kept getting headaches in the class.

Harry occasionally would ask McGonagall and Flitwick if they had any new information, but although they never did, they always seemed pleased at the followups and happy with Harry's increased diligence in their classes.

Before Harry realized it, two months had sped by, and Halloween was upon them. The castle was decked out in the appropriate decorations, but extra magical of course.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too — never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It was very difficult, but Harry had been practicing that very movement. After several minutes of repeating the incantation in various pronunciations, he finally managed to get the feather floating several inches in the air.

"Ooh, _well_ done, Miss Potter!" Flitwick said in obvious approval. "That will be five points to Gryffindor for your efforts! I saw you working with the pronunciation, and you are very close to perfect. But I would like you to relax more, and work with controlling the feather's motion."

Harry nodded and tried to repeat his success.

Ron, at the next table, wasn't so lucky.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

Harry winced at this, wondering why Hermione couldn't at least try to be friendlier with her corrections.

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, excellent work!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "A full four foot rise, I believe. Very nice control work, another five points I think for that."

Hermione smiled triumphantly and looked down her nose at Harry

Harry felt himself begin to get angry, but slowly calmed himself. They were still in class after all.

But after class, as they all walked away from the classroom, Hermione decided to continue from her condescending look. "That was a paltry effort you did, Harriet. Hardly worth the five points you gained, but I suppose it's no surprise you received them after all."

Harry had finally had enough of this and snapped angrily. "All right, Hermione, that's it!"

The students all stopped walking to watch silently.

"I don't know what your problem is with me exactly, but you know what? I don't really care. I've been nothing been nice to you, and you've been nothing but a pain to me since we've met!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You really don't get it? You really don't understand?"

"Please explain," Harry growled. "If indeed there is an actual reason behind all the snide remarks."

"Oh, don't give me that nonsense!" Hermione said angrily. "You come to this school, raised by Muggles no less, and famous for something you have no right to be famous for. You aren't even the best student, yet all the professors treat you better than anyone else. Even Professor Snape favors you!"

"That part still baffles me," Ron muttered under his breath.

"I wouldn't say he favors me, exactly," Harry answered. "But he and my mum were friends - that's not so awful is it?"

"You know exactly what you are doing, Harriet Potter!" Hermione said in a low voice. "You can act all innocent with me, but I know what kind of person you truly are. And you can't use your relatives as an excuse!"

"Hermione!" Parvati shrieked. "Watch your mouth!"

"Shut up!" Hermione hissed. "I'm not saying anything I shouldn't be saying! Harriet has been coasting on her fame for months."

Harry suddenly felt incredibly sorry for Hermione and sighed. "Hermione, I don't think you understand a thing about me. I just would rather us all get along. Can you manage that at least?"

Hermione looked from side to side uncertainly. "I... I don't know what you mean!"

"It means stop being such a nightmare!" Ron said, looking like he had been holding this in for a while. "Haven't you've noticed you've got no friends?"

Nobody said a word.

Suddenly Hermione's face crumbled and she burst into tears. She pushed her way past the group and ran off.

"Ron, that was a bit harsh," Parvati admonished.

"Well, maybe," Ron said uncomfortably. "But you can't tell me you don't agree."

Parvati frowned. "Well, no. But still, there is such a thing as tact."

"Um..." Ron scratched his head. "I don't think I know that word."

Lavender giggled then looked chagrined. "Sorry."

As they dispersed, Parvati whispered to Harry, "We really should go make sure she's all right. She didn't seem all that okay."

Harry nodded in agreement and followed Parvati to the nearby girl's bathroom. That had been an adjustment of its own for Harry, but luckily all the bathrooms had private stalls, so at the very least he didn't feel exposed. He still felt nervous going into the public girl's bathroom, but told himself that this was only to check on Hermione.

Sure enough, Hermione had locked herself into a stall and was sobbing softly.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry said. "Talk to us."

"Go away!" she said in a muffled voice.

Parvati sighed. "I guess we should just come back later."

Harry nodded sadly, wishing there was something more he could do to help Hermione.

But later that day, as they all sat around the table for dinner, Hermione was still missing.

"Where is she?" Ron asked, looking somewhat guilty.

"Probably still in the bathroom," Parvati said, shaking her head sadly. "She'll be okay eventually."

"But she's missing dinner!" Ron said in horror.

There was a sudden gasp, and they all turned in unison to see Professor Quirrell sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

"Follow me!" Percy said in a kind of almost happy tone. "Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

Harry began to pack up his things, then had a sudden horrible realization.

"What's wrong, Harriet?" Ron asked, who had been waiting for her.

"Hermione! She's still in the washroom near the dungeons! We have to warn her!"

"Do we have to?" Ron whined. "Just let the prefects take care of it."

"Ron, you don't honestly want her to _die_, do you?"

"Well, no, I suppose I don't," Ron grumbled. "But let's hurry it up. I don't want to die either. I've already almost been eaten once this year."

But as they approached the bathroom, they could smell something horrid, and they soon heard something walking about with a heavy tread.

Harry began to get a very terrible feeling.

"Ron, hurry up! The troll might be there already!"

For his part, Ron looked a combination of terror and determination, but he quickly followed behind Harry.

Sure enough, the troll was clearly in the washroom.

"Maybe she's not in there?" Ron asked hopefully.

A sudden shriek answered that question.

"Merlin's dung!" Ron cursed.

"We've got to save her!" Harry said, shaking Ron's shoulder.

"Fine, fine, stop shaking me!" Ron yelled. "But what can we do? We're just first-years."

Harry sighed but then frowned in determination. "I guess we'll have to plan as we go."

The troll seemed much bigger when Harry actually saw it, and it was certainly smellier than anything he could think of. Poor Hermione was huddled in a corner behind the sinks, and then she saw Ron and Harry. Her mouth dropped open in shock.

"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.

Harry then gritted his teeth, and realized there was only thing he could do.

He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped – it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils.

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.

Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand — not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over — and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

It was Hermione who spoke first.

"Is it — dead?"

"I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.

"Urgh — troll boogers."

He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. "Explain yourself, Miss Potter. This level of stupidity astounds me."

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall — they were looking for me."

Both McGonagall and Snape seemed startled by this remark.

"She wasn't feeling well," Harry said hurriedly in a half-truth. "So she was in the bathroom earlier after class. When she didn't show up, we realized she must not have heard about the troll. We were really only coming to warn her and get her back to the dorms."

McGonagall sighed. "Brave and foolish. Thoughtful and short-sighted."

Snape snorted. "That's Gryffindor for you."

McGonagall glared at him. "Enough, Severus." She sighed. "I suppose you three have already been through a great deal already this evening. You did leave when you should have spoken to a prefect or professor, but you did manage to potentially save Miss Granger's life. I suppose I shall take off twenty points for misbehavior."

"But that's not fair!" Hermione protested.

"I wasn't finished, Miss Granger. For their efforts in defeating a fully grown troll, I give them each twenty points."

Snape smirked. "Awfully generous of you. Imagine if it had been a giant. Perhaps thirty points in such a case?"

"Is that a bit more fair?" McGonagall asked sternly, ignoring the Potions professor.

Hermione nodded silently, her eyes finally drying.

"Then please go see Madame Pomfrey at once to ensure that nothing's broken. And no protests, that means all of you!"

The three students walked silently together for a little while towards the Hospital wing.

"Hold on a minute," Hermione finally said.

Ron and Harry stopped walking and looked back at Hermione.

"Please, I need to-" Hermione took a deep breath. "I need to thank you both. And I need to... I need to apologize."

Ron's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You're right," Hermione said miserably. "I have been awful to both of you, but especially you, Harriet."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe so, but that hardly meant we wanted you to be hurt."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Yes, although in a way, that only makes it worse." She sighed heavily. "To be honest, I've been... very jealous of you."

"Wow," Ron shook his head. "That must have been really difficult to say."

"You have no idea," Hermione muttered.

"Hermione, I have nothing against you," Harry said. "You're smarter than everyone else in the class, but you just don't need to keep being obvious about it. We already know."

Hermione giggled a bit at that. "That's very kind of you, Harriet. It hasn't been easy for me, a Muggle-born, at this school. And here you come in, also raised by Muggles, but everything is so easy for you."

"I wouldn't quite go _that _far," Harry protested.

"The teachers all like you more than anyone else, even Snape."

Ron nodded. "Eerie, that."

Harry scowled. "Well, first of all, I don't think that's true, and second, so what? It hasn't been easy for me, especially with the girl curse and all."

The other two looked at him in puzzlement.

"Never mind," Harry muttered.

"Do you think, perhaps," Hermione started to say. "Perhaps we can start over? From that first time we met, maybe we can all be friendly and I can still appreciate you showing up that stupid chauvinist Malfoy?"

Ron laughed. "Well for my part I couldn't possibly hate someone who dislikes Malfoy."

Harry smiled. "Hermione, I think we'll be fine, if you can use your powers of bossiness and book smarts for good instead of evil."

Hermione and Ron both laughed at this, then exchanged a surprised look.

Ron shrugged. "I should warn you about that. Harriet is sometimes a bit _too _clever for her own good."

"I know the feeling," Hermione mused.

"There is one thing," Harry said.

Hermione tensed.

"All I ask is that you never compliment me about something girlish, and you never refer to me as a girl. You do that, and I think we'll be just fine."

Hermione blinked in surprise and intrigue. "Fascinating. Is this something to with your relatives?"

"Uh, uh," Harry waved a finger. "None of that now. No questions about that either, all right?"

Hermione nodded. "Sorry."

"She asked me the same thing," Ron confided. "It was hard at first, but now I barely think about it, to be honest."

"Wait," Hermione said in sudden realization. "Is that why you slapped Dean?"

"Harriet slapped Dean?" Ron asked in horrified amusement. "When was this?"

Harry shrugged. "Ages ago."

"Oh, that's right," Hermione said. "It was right before your Sorting."

"Do go on!" Ron said excitedly.

"You don't mind, Harriet?" Hermione asked.

"Go ahead," Harry waved. "One of my proudest moments - after the troll, of course."

Hermione smiled. "All right then. So Dean gets Sorted and introduces himself..."

* * *

_Next time..._  
_You know something, Hedwig? This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship._

_"What do you see in the Mirror?" Harry asked._

"_Um, I'd rather not say," Ron said, his ears a bit red._


	5. 5: A Hearty Reflection

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Quick Note: There have been some concerns from reviewers about the story which are quite fair. Normally I would respond to them with a Private Message, but if you don't allow PMs I have no way to contact you. Obviously I appreciate all reviews, positive and negative, and I would never be one of those authors that says "Review or I won't write more" - I started writing this with the plan to finish it, so I will do my best to do just that. I will work to address some of the issues people have had with this story. I am trying to make this as non-clichéd as possible and move further away from anything in the original books (I wasn't able to avoid some direct quotes at first, but that should no longer be an issue).**

**I will reveal one bit of spoiler information regarding Dumbledore, because it's not really that big of a deal to do so: He is not evil or any more manipulative than he already is canonically (where he does do a few things to that effect), because I am personally tired of such stories. In this story, Dumbledore had no crazy plan to change Harry into a girl - partially because I can't even figure out why he would even want to do such a thing.**

**As usual, much thanks to my beta for his/her help.**

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER FIVE: A HEARTY REFLECTION**

It was quite late when Madame Pomfrey reluctantly released them with a perfunctory "I suppose you don't _need_ further treatment". They walked back to the dormitories in silence, each not quite sure what to say.

Finally they reached the staircases separating the girls' and boys' dorms and stopped to look at each other.

Ron sighed. "That was quite an adventure, wasn't it? Not sure how it ranks compared to the three-headed dog, but I suppose two crazy near-death experiences is a lot for two months." He then yawned mightily and stretched. "Blimey, but suddenly I'm completely exhausted."

"That's due to the adrenaline, naturally," Hermione explained. "You had a jolt of it fighting the troll, but now that's drained and you're back to feeling tired."

Harry and Ron both stared at her for a moment.

Harry chuckled softly. "I'm glad the experience hasn't addled your brains, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I am happy that your powers of perception are so perspicacious."

"And on that confusing note, I'm going to sleep. See you guys tomorrow," said Ron before he ran quickly up the stairs.

When Harry and Hermione arrived in their room, Parvati and Lavender were awake, talking softly.

"Oh, you're back!" Parvati said. "We were so worried when none of you showed up!"

"The prefects wouldn't tell us anything," Lavender moped.

"It was nothing too out of the ordinary," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders then paused, as perhaps this was not _entirely_ correct. "Well, maybe that's not accurate. Hermione got trapped by the troll so we had to run over and try to get her away."

Lavender shrieked in horror.

"You... you were trapped by the troll?" Parvati stammered.

"Yes," Hermione said softly. "But then Harriet and Ron ran in and saved me. Harriet leaped onto the troll's back and shoved her wand in its nose!"

Parvati and Lavender both shrieked at this.

"Harriet Potter, you are insane!" Parvati marveled.

"Insanely brave," Lavender said in admiration.

"And then Ron dropped a club on its head, knocking it out."

"How did he do that?" Parvati wondered. "A troll's club must weigh twenty stone at least!"

"I don't know if it was that heavy," Harry put in. "But he actually used the Levitation Charm, if you can believe it. I suppose it was probably still on his mind from class."

"He managed to pronounce _Wingardium Leviosa_ well enough to knock out a troll?" Parvati giggled. "Lucky Hermione corrected him in class then."

Hermione blinked. "I hadn't thought of that."

"You see, Hermione?" Harry said with a grin. "You can use your powers for good after all."

Hermione laughed, although the other two girls looked puzzled.

Parvati arched an eyebrow. "I'm guessing something else happened? Did you two talk over your disagreements?"

"Yes," Hermione said slowly. "I think we've been able to put aside our differences. At least I hope so." She looked at Harry hopefully.

"Well I was always willing to try that in the first place," Harry said, climbing into his bed and pulling off his outer robe. "So if you keep trying to get along, I will too."

Lavender beamed. "How mature of you!"

Hermione sighed. "See, normally I would say something insulting there. But I suppose that doesn't help anyone."

"Well, please do try to keep from ill-placed insults," Parvati said pointedly. "I think we can all agree there are more valid targets for such things."

"Like Malfoy?" Harry couldn't help but say.

The girls laughed.

"I quite agree," Hermione smiled. "Although perhaps shared hatred of someone isn't the best way to cement a friendship - for now, I'll take it."

"Is that it?" Parvati asked. "Nothing else happened that you should talk about?"

"It's all I can handle, anyway," Harry yawned. "I'm too exhausted to keep talking. I did ride a troll's back after all, although that's not a boast. It's just a tad tiring."

Lavender giggled.

"Do you mind if we talk softly, Harriet?" Parvati asked.

"Go right ahead," Harry said. "Just don't mind my snoring."

* * *

The next few days passed essentially without incident. Hermione was still clearly not entirely comfortable interacting politely with the rest of the group, but she did seem to be trying her hardest. Hermione obviously wanted to respond to something that Ron would say occasionally, but she mostly held her tongue. So the group slowly began to interact more together, even occasionally studying together - although this often involved pretending to listen to Hermione explain something.

Harry would often try to invite Neville to study with them, and the shy boy would very occasionally sit with them, but he never said a word. And the other first years, Dean and Seamus, had formed a very tight relationship and really tended to only hang out by themselves, except at class and meals.

But the upcoming Quidditch season was about to start, and Harry's first game was approaching rapidly. Neither of the two types of comments he received alleviated his nerves: either confident assurances of his abilities based on his father's skills; or, worries that perhaps he didn't take after his father enough and would have a terrible accident.

For their part, his friends tried to be as supportive as possible. Ron and Parvati were unshakably confident, of course, which was nice, but Hermione and Lavender, though they claimed to be unworried, were both clearly quite nervous. And the few times Neville even managed to speak to Harry tended to be monosyllabic; he tended to mostly nod or shake his head in response to questions. He would respond when other people asked him questions, so that was something at least.

The day before the match, the group sat outside in the freezing courtyard, huddled around a magic fire that Hermione had conjured. It seemed that the intention was to keep up a lively conversation to allay Harry's nerves, and although Harry quickly realized this was happening, he was very grateful nonetheless.

"Uh oh," Ron suddenly murmured. "Keep a lid on it. Look who's coming this way."

Sure enough, the esteemed Potions Professor was heading towards them - walking in a limp.

Snape cleared his throat. "A word, Miss Potter, if you will?"

Harry stood and looked at the others. "This won't be long, I'm sure. Don't do anything to annoy him."

Ron rolled his eyes and mumbled something incoherently.

"What was that, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked acidly.

Ron paled. "Nothing, sir, just clearing my throat."

"I should hope so. Come with me a moment, Miss Potter, I have only to speak with you briefly."

Harry walked with Snape a bit away from the group until they could no longer be overheard.

"Is there a problem, sir?" Harry asked.

Snape grimaced. "Not necessarily, but I could not help but discover that you are to be playing Seeker for your House Quidditch team tomorrow."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, that spread faster than I would've liked. Wood wasn't pleased that information about the 'secret weapon' got out."

"Mr. Wood should be more concerned with his grades so he doesn't fail," Snape grumbled. "But in any event, I suppose you are aware that tomorrow's game is against my Slytherin team?"

"Yes, I know," Harry said. "And you needn't feel odd cheering for Slytherin, of course. I could hardly expect otherwise, after all."

"Quite," Snape's eyes glinted in slight amusement. "Obviously I am going to support my own House in the matter. But I want you to be on your guard a bit tomorrow... my players are quite talented, of course, and always adhere to the strict letter of the rulebook, but they can be a tad... aggressive."

"Oh," Harry blinked. "I think I see what you mean. I suppose you don't want to see anyone injured, even if it's the 'foolhardy' Gryffindors?"

Snape's face was unreadable for a moment, then the Professor sighed slightly. "Yes, that is about right. You should have nothing to worry about, of course; but be careful, nonetheless. McGonagall would be quite displeased if you were to be hurt."

"Yes, she would," Harry said, thinking it best not to contradict this statement. "Thank you for the... consideration."

Snape nodded silently and walked off, still with a noticeable limp.

Harry walked back to the group, shaking his head a bit in puzzlement.

"So what was that all about?" Ron asked. "Secret tips in Potions?"

Hermione looked carefully at Harry and then gasped in realization. "It was about Quidditch, wasn't it?"

"Um, yes, actually," Harry responded. "He was just telling me that the Slytherin players can be a bit mean so I should just be careful about it."

Ron shook his head in disgust. "I don't know what I should hate about that. But there's gotta be something, I'm sure of it."

Parvati frowned, looking back over at the now distant figure of the Professor. "Did you notice the limp? I wonder what the problem was."

"I think I saw," Lavender piped up. "I saw a bit of his leg when he was walking away. It was all bandaged and damaged from something."

"Maybe he spilled a potion on himself?" Hermione wondered.

"Whatever it was, if it's painful, he deserves it," Ron said with finality. "Um, no offense Harriet."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Snape is pretty awful to you, so I don't think I can blame you for hating him." He paused, considering Hermione's curiosity. An idea suddenly occurred to him. "Hermione, you know how I have that kind of research project about my mum's work?"

"Yes," Hermione grumbled. "I wish I had my own research project. But I wouldn't even know where to start, much less find the time to fit it in."

"Maybe if you didn't reread everything, you'd have more time," Parvati pointed out.

"Wait, hold on a moment," Ron put up a hand. "Are you saying you read books more than once? _School_ books?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, you should know me well enough by now to have already guessed that."

Ron nodded. "Okay, good point."

"Right," Harry said. "So I might have an interesting project for you as it turns out."

Hermione looked at Harry with a skeptical expression.

"You could call it a sort of mystery, if you want. The Mystery of the Trapdoor. And I may have a few additional clues you weren't aware of."

"The Mystery of the Trapdoor?" Parvati asked.

"You're not... you're talking about the trapdoor on the third floor are you?" Neville asked nervously.

"Harriet, are you saying you know what's under the trapdoor?" Hermione asked, sounding quite intrigued.

"No, but that's the point. What fun is a mystery if we already know the answer?"

Lavender clapped her hands in excitement. "Ooh how fun! A mystery!"

Hermione now looked quite happy. "What are these clues?"

"So you know how Gringotts was broken into, right? But they said nothing was stolen?" The others nodded. "That's because Hagrid had already taken out something from a vault for Dumbledore."

"But how do you know that?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"I was there, of course," Harry replied. "Hagrid was escorting me around Diagon Alley and when we went to the bank, he grabbed something from that particular vault. I couldn't see what it was - it was in a small bag - so it couldn't have been very big."

"How interesting..." Hermione mused.

"I think you've hooked her," Parvati said in amusement. "Although I must say I'm a bit curious myself. I can ask Padma if she has any ideas, if you like. I think she ought to be interested in solving a mystery."

"Your sister, right?" Harry asked.

Parvati nodded.

"That sounds all right to me. It's not like it's a secret, after all, and I'm sure your sister is trustworthy. Is it okay for everyone else?"

"I don't care at all," Ron announced.

Lavender and Neville both shook their heads.

"Well, I suppose it is okay," Hermione said slowly. "But I still want to do most of the research myself, okay?"

Harry laughed. "For some reason, I doubt any of us will mind that one bit."

* * *

When the next day arrived and Harry found himself on the field, broom in hand, he marveled at how quickly the time just flew by. The intrigue of Harry's Mystery of the Trapdoor had had the group talking for hours, although no actual progress had been made. All the talk had successfully taken Harry's mind off his nerves, and now that the game was upon him he was far too excited to be nervous.

"You okay, Harriet?" One of the Chasers asked, a girl by the name of Angelina if Harry remembered correctly. "Oliver says you're quite impressive. It'll be nice to outnumber the boys for once."

Another girl laughed, Katie something. "I think that Wood wouldn't care if a goblin flew if it would get him the Cup."

Oliver scowled at them. "You lot should be taking this more seriously. We already have enough nonsense from the twins already."

"Enough?" Fred gasped, clutching his chest dramatically.

"Nonsense?" George piped in.

"No such thing," they said at the same time.

Of course, any remaining nerves vanished the very second Harry shot into the air. This was what he excelled at, more than anything else. Pure joy distilled into quick moments.

Everything went relatively smoothly until his broom began to suddenly lurch and buck about, nearly throwing Harry off. He held on with all his might, trying to control the oddly misbehaving broom. But after only a minute or two, the shaking suddenly ceased, and Harry quickly regained control of the broom. And then...

In a lightning quick dive, Harry had managed to grab the Snitch out of the air with his mouth and waved it above his head triumphantly. Gryffindor had won handily.

Hagrid had invited the lot of them back to his hut for a celebratory tea, and even the wary Lavender came, although probably only because of Hagrid's role in the Mystery.

It was a bit of a tight fit in the hut, but there was a toasty fire and the tea was quite good.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining. "We saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

"I would tend to agree," Hermione started to say. "Considering how he normally treats her. But then who else could have done it?"

"Did you see something?" Harry asked Parvati.

She shook her head. "Not at first, although we all saw Snape acting oddly once Ron pointed it out."

"But why would he suddenly want to hurt me? Especially after just warning me yesterday?"

Hermione shrugged in befuddlement. "I know, Harriet, it doesn't really make sense to me either."

"I bet he has some evil trick up his sleeves," Ron said darkly. "I've never trusted him."

"Yeh can trust Professor Snape," Hagrid said. "Dumbledore does, don't he? And from all I hear, he likes Harriet better than most, right?"

"I think Snape treats her better than even the Slytherins," Parvati confided. "It's an interesting secret, don't you think?"

Hagrid looked a bit confused. "I'm not sure I know what yeh mean."

"Didn't Harriet tell you about the Mystery?" Parvati asked.

Harry winced. "Um, no I didn't. Slipped my mind."

"What Mystery?" Hagrid asked, sounding very interested. "I'm always up for somethin' mysterious."

"The Trapdoor, of course," Hermione replied. "But you must know all about that of course. With the three-headed cat and all."

"Cat?" Ron looked confused.

"Wait a momen'," Hagrid said. "I know we got Fluffy, a three-headed dog guarding the trapdoor. But I never heard of no three-headed cat."

"Oh, my mistake," Hermione said quickly. "Of course you're right, I meant three-headed dog."

"Right," Hagrid nodded then looked horrified. "Wait, how do you know about Fluffy?"

Ron snorted. "What kind of name is Fluffy for a thing like that?"

"I think it's adorable," Lavender defended.

"You didn't actually see Fluffy," Ron pointed out. "He's enormous! And not exactly cute."

"That's not fair Ron," Hagrid protested. "Fluffy is just doin' his best as a guard dog. He can't help bein' a bit out o' sorts, locked up in the room all the time."

"Can you imagine what other things Fluffy might've guarded over the years?" Harry asked in a kind of wistful tone, keeping a careful eye on Hagrid. "Think this is the most important one?"

Hermione smiled slightly, looking very proud.

Hagrid stroked his beard thougtfully. "Hard to say, really. He's a unique sort, specially bred to be great guards. The Greek chappie I bought him off of had gotten Fluffy in an inheritance thing, I think. Didn't really know how to handle Fluffy or didn't have nothin' to guard either, but I have heard some stories. I don't know if anythin' was more important years ago than the - well, I shouldn't really say."

"Go on," Parvati prodded eagerly.

"I can't be tellin' you lot that," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"Fair enough," Hermione said with a very dramatic sigh. "I suppose we'll have to look elsewhere, then."

"Now, listen to me, all of yeh," said Hagrid hotly. "Nice to see Gryffs all together, o' course, but yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel —"

"Nicolas Flamel you say?" Ron asked.

"Another clue," Harry said with a smile. "Thanks for the tea Hagrid."

Hagrid looked as if he wasn't sure whether or not to be pleased with the pleasant words or furious with himself for giving away secret information.

* * *

Although there was always homework to be done (with one particular member of the group always enjoying it more than anyone else), the Gryffindors continued to find time to gather in the library to discuss and research the "Mystery". The additional clue of Nicolas Flamel had been a tantalizing name to help solve the mystery, but as of yet they hadn't any luck finding any mention of Flamel at all in any of the library's many books.

At lunch one day, Parvati rushed over to join the other first years. "I was just talking to Padma about various things, and she'll have time today after lunch to hang out with us. We have a free period today, so we can all go the library and _study_."

"Oh, excellent," Hermione beamed.

"Hermione," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "She doesn't mean studying. She means _studying_," Harry over-emphasized the last word a bit.

Hermione deflated a little, but nodded. "Ah, of course. Well that will be fun too."

"Any time Hermione hears the words _homework _or _studying_," Ron said. "You had better be sure not to block the path to the library."

Lavender giggled. "Ron! That's awful!"

"Oh no!" Hermione leapt up from the table. "My notes are in our room! I have to go get them straight away!" Without even waiting for a response, Hermione bolted in the direction of their dormitory.

Ron shook his head sadly. "Can't believe she left a plate half full. You'd never see me doing that."

Harry leaned back from his own now empty plate. "Well, I'm done though. Why don't some of us head to the library and grab a table now, and you can come when you're done?" He stood up from the table.

"That's fine with me," Neville said softly, still poking at some potatoes.

Ron nodded with a mouthful of food. "Sounsh mood to me," he said.

"Swallow first!" Lavender scolded him. "You might spit all over somebody's nice clothes!"

"Are you finished as well, Lav?" Parvati asked. "You can come along with us now, right?" She glanced at Lavender a bit knowingly.

"What? Oh yes, of course." Lavender quickly gathered up her things and followed behind Parvati and Harry.

After they had gone a ways toward the library, with no other students in earshot, Parvati turned to the other two Gryffindors.

"So you two will not _believe _what I heard from my sister!"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Is it some sort of secret?"

"You might say that," Parvati answered mysteriously.

"Don't leave us in suspense!" Lavender said excitedly. "I never hear about anything!"

Parvati smiled, looking very pleased. "She heard it from Susan Bones, who heard it from Megan Jones, the Hufflepuff. Quite an interesting story. So you know Arcturus Black?"

Lavender nodded.

"Well he just died, and apparently his cousin Cassiopeia isn't doing too well either. So there's all sorts of talk about the Blacks and who will get control of the vaults."

Lavender frowned. "The Blacks use _Terra salica_, don't they? So the eldest boy gets everything."

"No," Parvati corrected. "They allow female heirs, but only if there aren't any surviving males. So Arcturus was the primary heir, and Orion after him, even though his daughter was older."

"Right," Lavender nodded. "And there was some sort of scandal with Orion's heirs ages ago, wasn't there?"

Harry looked back and forth between the two girls, completely lost.

"Exactly," Parvati said in satisfaction. "Regulus died, and Sirius, well..." She glanced at Harry. "We don't need to get into that one, I'm sure Harriet doesn't want to hear that old story again."

Lavender smiled sympathetically at Harry.

_What old story_? Harry quite wanted to ask a number of things, but he had no idea of where to start.

"So you won't believe this," Parvati said. "But it looks like succession might go to _Malfoy_."

"Senior or junior?" Lavender asked.

"Draco, of course, his father isn't related."

"Ah, of course," Lavender realized. "How horrible. That stupid arrogant prat becoming the Black Heir? As if he needs more to boast about."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Harry said. "Okay, I'm sorry, and maybe this is my Muggle-raised background, but I have no idea who most of those people even are!"

Lavender looked confused but Parvati's mouth dropped open in shock.

"My goodness," Parvati finally said. "Merlin's hat, I completely forgot. You wouldn't know about any of the pure-blood families, Harriet, would you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Hmm, I don't even know quite where to begin," Parvati shook her head ruefully. "But I think we have quite a lot of work ahead of us. Luckily Lavender knows as much about the old families as me."

"No, not nearly," Lavender complimented her friend. "But I can certainly help get Harriet up to speed. It's only right she know about her family and all that of course."

Parvati nodded and looked frightfully determined. "Well said, Lav. I don't have time for the family tree, Harriet, naturally, but perhaps a very quick overview of the Black situation?"

"Sure," said Harry, happy to hear anything about his magical side of the family.

"Blacks are a very old pure-blood British family," Parvati began. "Almost as old as the Potters. Oddly enough, I think close to the Browns, although that's probably a coincidence."

Lavender giggled. "Blacks and Browns never did get along though."

"War of the dreary colors!" laughed Parvati. "So the Blacks are important for two reasons: one, they have amassed ridiculous wealth over the years, and two, their family motto is _Toujours Pur_, which means they try to only marry pure-bloods. It's impossible of course, even for them, but they disown anyone who goes against the Black 'standards'."

"Wow," Harry mused. "Did the Potters and Blacks get along?"

"The Potters have historically been mostly neutral or mixed, so sometimes yes, sometimes no," explained Parvati. "Actually your great-uncle Charlus married Dorea Black, who is, let me see..." She counted out something on her hands. "Draco's mother's father's aunt. So in a way, you and Draco are sort of cousins."

"That's horrible!" Harry paled.

"Ron's related too, though," Lavender pointed out. "I think through his mother's side. But I can't quite remember the specifics. All pure-blood families are related in some manner, as they all marry each other constantly."

They had just arrived at the library, so they wound their way around the shelves until they found a decent sized unoccupied table.

"But Draco is going to be the Black Heir?" asked Harry quietly as they sat down, getting back to the salient details.

Parvati nodded grimly. "It seems very likely, unless somehow Sirius had a child out of wedlock. And apparently the word has been going around in Slytherin for the girls to cozy up to Draco to try to get connected to the inheritance."

"Slytherin tarts," Lavender grumbled.

"And it's not just Slytherin; several pure-blood families are getting in on it. Megan was complaining that her parents want her to be nice to Malfoy, that's how Susan heard about it." Parvati sighed. "I can't blame her. I would be very cross if my parents wanted me to befriend Malfoy."

"But they wouldn't force her to marry Draco, would they?" asked Harry in horror. "No one deserves that, not even Slytherin girls!"

The girls laughed.

"Hard to say, really," Parvati mused. "Arranged marriages still do happen, after all. My aunt had one, although that one went all right for them - they seem to like each other well enough."

"What are you lot talking about?" Ron asked, having just walked over with Neville.

"Oh, just girl business," Parvati said archly.

"Not another word," Ron held up his hands. "I know better than to get into that one."

Hermione appeared, carrying a dozen books. "I don't think we've looked at these," she puffed. "So we'll have some new material to review." She carefully placed the precarious pile on the table.

"I don't think you have enough books there Hermione," Ron said with a smile.

Lavender coughed oddly, sounding like she was trying not to laugh.

"You think so?" Hermione asked worriedly. "Perhaps you're right; I can go look for some others."

"No, no, sit down!" Harry insisted, knowing that this could keep going on indefinitely. "We probably won't have time to even go over them all today, but it was very thoughtful of you to bring them."

Hermione smiled and nodded in thanks.

"Ooh, here comes Padma!" Parvati jumped out of her seat and ran over to her sister, who was, as Harry recalled, completely identical. Harry had been used to Fred and George by this point, and was easily able to tell them apart, so he could already notice a few small differences between the Patils. Although it was difficult to be certain unless they dressed alike as well.

"Padma, this is everyone," Parvati introduced the others. "You know Lavender already, but that's Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and obviously Harriet Potter. Come on, sit with us!"

Padma nodded with a very small smile. "Very nice to meet all of you. How are your studies?"

"Ravenclaws," Ron muttered to Lavender who giggled and then lightly smacked him on the shoulders.

"Well," Hermione started to say. "It's a bit complicated, actually."

"We're all doing fine," Harry interrupted, with an apologetic glance at Hermione. "But I assume Parvati already told you about the Mystery?"

"Only a bit," Padma said with a shrug. "I am familiar with the general underlying question, although the various pertinent details she left out."

"I thought we could talk better about it as a group," Parvati explained. "But I already did tell her that there was something Fluffy was guarding next to the trapdoor on third floor corridor."

"Wait, Fluffy?" Padma asked in confusion. "You hadn't mentioned anyone by that name. Who or what is this 'Fluffy'?"

"A giant monstrous three-headed dog!" Ron said with relish. "Almost ate us when we stumbled across him accidentally." The last part he said a bit proudly.

"All we really know is that Dumbledore asked Hagrid to get something secret out of some Gringotts vault," Harry explained. "Oh, and we just found out about Flamel."

"Nicolas Flamel?" asked Padma.

Hermione blinked in surprise. "You know who that is? We couldn't find any references anywhere."

"Well, I'm not sure what you were reading," Padma said airily. "But yes, Flamel is a very famous Alchemist who has been alive nearly seven hundred years. Dumbledore studied with him, I believe, when he was either in Hogwarts or just out of it."

"Flamel is seven hundred years old?" Ron asked in amazement. "How did he manage that?"

Padma sniffed. "I'm surprised you don't already know that bit. Flamel is most well known for his creation of the Philosopher's Stone, of course."

Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "That sounds familiar, from some old Muggle stories I've heard. I think there's something about turning lead into gold, but how does that keep one alive so long?"

"Maybe you could somehow buy extra years with all that gold?" Parvati ventured.

"Nonsense," Padma scoffed. "Otherwise we'd be seeing very old members of several old and wealthy families still today. As for the lead to gold transmutation, I hadn't heard of that aspect of the Philosopher's Stone; in the stories, the Stone is used primarily to create an Elixir of Life that can be utilized to extend your lifespan over and over."

"I think I've heard of some of those old stories too," Neville put in a bit tepidly. "Flamel and his famous Stone, there are some old children's stories I've heard when I was very young."

"I don't remember hearing anything like that," Parvati said with a frown. "Padma, when did you hear about this?"

Padma tapped her chin in thought. "I don't believe I heard this particular story as a child at home, otherwise of course we'd have both heard it. I can't remember the precise source, but it was probably some neighborhood storyteller."

"So unless the Stone is enormous, that's it!" Harry said excitedly. "The Philosopher's Stone must be what's hiding under the trapdoor!"

"But hold on a moment," Hermione worried. "We still don't know _why _it's being kept here in the first place."

The group was silent for a moment as they all thought about it.

"Wait a minute," Ron said suddenly. "I just recalled - wasn't there some sort of break-in at Gringotts?"

Lavender nodded. "Ooh, yes, I remember reading that in the Prophet weeks ago! First attempted burglary in decades, the goblins were not at all pleased. Apparently, it would have been successful, too, if Hagrid hadn't already taken what the thief was looking for!"

"Okay, so it was moved here to guard against theft," Hermione said. "But why Hogwarts? Isn't there any place more secure."

"I would've thought Gringotts was more secure," Padma put in. "But clearly that is not the case. I suppose that Hogwarts does have a great deal of protections, and I am certain that the Headmaster must know secretive ways to conceal items in the castle."

"I guess then the next important question is about the theft," said Harry. "Who is trying to steal the Stone?"

"It's Snape!" Ron said suddenly.

"Oh, ridiculous," Hermione scoffed. "Why would he would do that?"

Padma nodded in agreement. "I find it _highly _unlikely a Hogwarts Professor would even attempt to break into Gringotts, much less manage to do it without getting caught."

"You don't know Snape then," Ron insisted. "He's awful."

"He is," Lavender nodded. "I can completely believe he might want to steal the Stone, even considering his good manners toward Harriet."

Harry frowned. "I don't know, that doesn't seem right. Snape is a bit of pain, I'll admit, but he doesn't seem like he's just pure evil."

"Agree to disagree, then," Ron said with a nod.

"I suppose it is _possible _that Professor Snape is decent in his manners while still planning to steal the Stone for himself," said Hermione, pondering the issue. "Alchemy and Potions have significant connections, after all."

"No, it isn't possible," Padma disagreed. "A Hogwarts Professor would not do such a thing. Much less Professor Snape."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Why would you say that? We don't know everything about the Professors, including Professor Snape. He might have even some connection to You-Know-Who."

"Well he does, of course," said Padma with a shrug. "He was a Death Eater, but he was acquitted ten years ago."

"Snape was a Death Eater?" Ron shouted, then quickly lowered his voice to prevent Madame Pince from showing up. "I knew it. That dark git. Then it's obvious, it's clearly him trying to steal the stone!"

Lavender nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. Maybe he's even trying to bring back You-Know-You!"

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Harry said. "But what's a Death Eater again? Sounds familiar."

"That's the name of You-Know-Who's followers," Parvati explained. "All of them are either in prison or got off for different reasons. I think mostly they said they were under the Imperius."

"My dad says that's a load, and I agree with him," said Ron with a determined nod. "No way Malfoy or Snape were tricked into anything they didn't want."

"But what _is_ the Imperius?" asked Hermione. "I've seen some references, but it was never explained."

Padma sniffed a bit haughtily. "Don't you know anything?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione spat.

"Let me explain," Parvati said quickly. "The Imperius is an illegal curse that lets you put someone under your complete control. They'll do whatever you want then."

"That's horrible!" Hermione gasped.

"That's why it's illegal, innit?" Ron pointed out.

"Is that why Professor Snape was acquitted?" Hermione asked. "Because he said he was under the influence of this curse?"

"No," Padma said flatly. "It was actually kind of a big deal, because Professor Dumbledore vouched for him. The specifics are secret though, so only the Wizengamot knows all that for certain."

"Well you seem certain it wasn't Snape," said Hermione a bit angrily. "Very certain indeed, for no apparent reason. Then perhaps you can enlighten us as to who else might be trying to steal the Stone and already broke into Gringotts?"

Padma smirked. "It could be any number of people, of course. And I have a very good reason for not suspecting Snape; it is not logical."

"And why is that exactly?" Hermione asked, raising her voice slightly. "Care to fill us in on your _impeccable _logic?"

"It's like watching two giant books attack each other," Ron whispered to Lavender, who giggled.

"More like try to spit enormous words at each other," she said.

Ron chuckled softly.

"It's a combination of several factors," Padma replied with a soft tone. "Mostly _a posteriori_, naturally, but if Dumbledore vouched for him, Snape must be trustworthy. Why would Dumbledore vouch for someone that he then tries to hide something from?"

"You are just begging the question," Hermione scoffed. "How can we assume that just because Snape was vouched for once that he won't succumb to recidivism? And wouldn't a Professor of Hogwarts be in the very perfect position to attempt to steal from Hogwarts?"

"And _you_ are just resorting to typical anti-Slytherin _ad homimen _attacks," Padma retorted. "If Professor Snape wasn't a Slytherin, you'd never suspect him."

Hermione frowned. "That's ridiculous! I would never be so subjective! I'm just admitting the possibility of his guilt, while you can't even seem to do even that. And at exactly what point in this conversation have I ever even mentioned anything about Slytherin? The first person to even bring it up was you, and just now!"

Padma shook her head, looking a bit confused. "I do not understand why you are so emotionally invested in this argument. Reasoning should not be connected to emotion."

"Is that right?" Hermione sneered. "While of course I agree you shouldn't allow emotion to color one's arguments, that _hardly _means there is no place for emotional resonance. Issues that are important to you personally will be ones you argue more about."

"I don't understand that perspective at all," Padma said, shaking her head.

"And there you have it," Lavender said in an aside to Ron and Neville. "The difference between Gryffindors and Ravenclaws."

Neville blinked in surprise, then his expression became quite thoughtful.

"Nice, Lavender," Ron smiled.

Harry leaned over and whispered to Parvati. "Want to work on Charms homework while they're arguing? Softly, of course."

Parvati smiled. "Well, all right. But perhaps we should keep an ear open in case they get out of hand. I know both of them well enough that this might get heated."

"Or if they ever get back to actually figuring out who's trying to steal the stone," Harry pointed out.

Parvati nodded with a grin.

* * *

Such frequent debates often took up most of their shared mystery-investigation sessions, often going on for the entirety of their time together. Even with the spirited arguments, everyone tended to get along well enough, although Ron often said it was never quite clear to him what two thirds of the words they spat at each other meant.

"If you had read Pinderkross's _Opines on Muggle Relations_, you would grasp the futility of your position."

Hermione scowled and said, "Pinderkross was just a bigoted drunkard, and you know it!"

"I fail to see the relevance of alcoholism to incendiary anti-Muggle pejoratives," said Padma, shaking her head. "As usual, you allow your personal distaste for antisocial personality traits bias you against perfectly rational arguments."

"Oh, never mind all that," replied Hermione. "I'll have you know I did finally read that stupid book you keep quoting, _Treatises on Alchemical Theory_."

Padma brightened. "Oh, good! Then you've finally acknowledged the specious connections between prototypical Potions and post-transitional Alchemical work."

"I have done _nothing of the sort_," insisted Hermione. "If anything, my position is clearly supported: an expert Potions brewer would indeed find cause to investigate 'the mysterious aspects of inter-chemical dependencies', as that book states with truly awful grammar."

"Which means?" Ron asked in an exhausted tone.

"No, that's ridiculous," said Padma sternly. "Professor Snape could not possibly desire to supplement his advanced understanding of Magical chemistry with some outdated and primitive form of Muggle-inspired lunacy."

"Ah ha!" Hermione announced in triumph. "If Alchemy is so useless, then why have no modern Potions brewers been able to reproduce the effects of the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Um," Padma frowned. "I'm not sure, exactly."

"Then Snape would not be able to replicate the effects himself, so the Stone would be a valid item he might desire, would it not?"

Padma rubbed her chin thoughtfully, considering this. "Hmm, you may be right after all. And at the very least, you were right about the Stone's connection to gold, and pecuniary interests tempt us all."

"So..." Parvati said slowly. "If I'm following that, which I am sure I am not, that means Snape might be the thief?"

"Yes," Padma nodded. "I will admit that the possibility does exist."

Lavender sighed and looked up from her Herbology homework, which Neville had been helping her complete. "Did something actually happen? Did we actually figure anything out?"

"I think they just both agreed that Snape _might_ be the thief," Harry ventured. "Although as I've said already, I'm not so sure. It could be a different Professor, or even one of the older students."

"That broke into Gringotts?" Ron pointed out.

"You both have good points," said Hermione. "Although it seems that Professor Snape is the obvious choice with his connection to You-Know-Who, we don't even know for certain that You-Know-Who is involved."

"Although..." Padma said slowly. "If You-Know-Who _was _involved somehow, she would have sufficient knowledge to break into Gringotts, even if she couldn't perform the task personally."

Harry asked, "Not personally? You think Vol... I mean, You-Know-Who is like a ghost or something? Or something like Peeves?"

Ron shuddered. "That's a horrid thought. Peeves and You-Know-Who combined."

Padma shrugged. "Many things are possible when it comes to the Dark Arts, and unfortunately, they are hardly the things Hogwarts teaches or most available books would explain. I must admit ignorance in this particular instance."

"What about you, Hermione?" asked Lavender encouragingly.

Hermione looked fairly annoyed that she might also have to admit ignorance. "Well, I don't know either. Are we saying that the thief might actually be You-Know-You herself?"

"Blimey," said Ron in amazement.

* * *

"Are you positive you don't want to come, Harriet? I'm sure we have room for you." Parvati looked simultaneously anxious and hopeful.

Harry shook his head. Parvati's invitation to spend the Christmas holidays with her and Padma's family was very kind indeed, but Harry didn't really want to impose. And he didn't really want to admit it, but there was an aspect of living with the Dursleys that Harry missed: the ability to spend some time alone. Since coming to Hogwarts, Harry had been seemingly around people all the time, and it would be nice to just relax in a room by himself.

Lavender and Hermione were also going home, so Harry would have the entire room to himself.

"Thanks, but this is my very first holiday in the Magical world, and I am very excited to see how Hogwarts celebrates," said Harry. This part was also quite true - and hopefully no trolls would show up this time to spoil things. "Besides, I won't be entirely alone; Ron and Neville will be here, and a few people I sort of know from the other houses."

"But it'll just be you and all those boys!" Lavender pointed out. "That might get quite annoying."

Harry laughed. "I think I'll be okay. And best of all, Malfoy won't be here, so I won't even have to worry about seeing him."

The girls laughed.

"Well, if you're sure, Harriet." Parvati leaned forward and hugged Harry tightly, leaving him a bit startled, with no idea of what to do with his hands.

Had that been his first embrace with a friend? Harry supposed his parents must have hugged him, but not in his memory. He sniffed, his eyes feeling a bit wet for some reason.

Parvati released him and smiled. "Happy Christmas, then. I think Hermione's still in the room deciding which books to take."

"No, I've abandoned that," Hermione said sadly from nearby. "I can't take library books off the grounds, unfortunately. But perhaps I can convince my parents to stop by Diagon Alley and pick up something from Flourish and Blotts."

Ron piped up from his chair in the common room. "You know, I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to handle going without references to the library or Flourish and Blotts for so long."

"Ron!" said Hermione, scandalized. "Are you saying you won't be helping to research while we're gone? Even though you'll still have access to the library?"

"Oh come on," Ron whined. "It's the holidays!"

"Give him a break, Hermione," Lavender said with a smile. "His brain is full."

Ron nodded eagerly. "Yes, completely."

"Oh, very well," Hermione shook her head but looked amused nonetheless. "Harriet, I hope you at least will research something, either the Mystery or your own project. It'd be a waste of free time otherwise."

"I will do something," Harry promised. "And please have a happy, _relaxing_ holiday yourself."

Hermione nodded primly. "I will, thank you."

In a way, it didn't seem like the holidays truly began until the girls left, although Harry knew he would miss them. He spent Christmas Eve relaxing with Ron and Neville in the common room, talking idly or playing various Wizarding games. Neville had thankfully finally managed to stop stuttering while talking to Harry, which came as a welcome change.

Harry had not been expecting any presents for Christmas, as the Dursleys tended not to give Harry much, if anything. But when he awoke, several packages awaited him in the girl's dorm room.

He grabbed the smallest, which only contained something quite odd. It was from the Dursleys, and attached to the note was a small, cheap red hair clip.

_This is your last Christmas present. We expect you won't need any more, so don't ask._

_From Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon_

Harry was completely befuddled by the bizarre gift, although not surprised at the sentiment of the note. He decided to open the remaining presents, all of which seemed quite a bit bulkier.

Hagrid had given him a hand carved wooden flute that actually worked, and Hermione had given him some candy and the book _Wondrous Witches of History_, with a note hoping it might help with his mother's research. Lavender and Parvati had each gotten Harry earrings, and he felt immediately guilty that he had not gotten them anything - and that he really did not want to wear the earrings, either.

Professor Snape had given Harry a small book on Potions called _Liquid Aptitude: Abandoning the Basics_. Included was a note telling him that under no circumstances, was "anyone else permitted to see it". Neville had gotten him a pack of Chocolate Frogs.

Harry now realized he would have to find gifts for everyone; unfortunately, living with his relatives, the concept of reciprocal gift giving was completely foreign. The only problem was that he wasn't even sure how he'd find a way to get presents in the first place.

There were two remaining packages, each unlabeled. One was a very nice sweater with some fudge, but the other one... it was a mysterious, silvery and thin cloak. Harry's first thought was that it was some sort of dress - but then he read the note.

_Your father left this in my possession before he died._

_It is time it was returned to you._

_Use it well._

Well that was a different matter then. If his father had owned the cloak and it had been given to Harry as a gift, it could be worn by anyone. He put on the cloak, which was astonishingly light and airy.

"Hmm, I wonder if everyone else is up."

Harry ran downstairs to the common room, and saw that Neville was sitting by himself.

"Neville, Happy Christmas!" Harry said loudly.

Neville looked over and yelped. "H-Harriet what's wrong with your... you're invisible!"

"What?" Harry looked down and then almost yelped himself. Everywhere the cloak was wrapped, Harry was completely invisible. He wasn't sure how he had missed it.

"Where did you get that?" Neville asked. "Invisibility Cloaks are supposed to be really rare."

Harry shrugged and pulled off the cloak, deciding it probably would look odd if anyone saw him like that. "I got it as a gift. Apparently, it belonged to my dad."

"Oh." Neville paused. "Um, did you get my gift?"

"Yes, of course!" Harry enthused. "But I completely forgot to get you anything - but please don't feel bad, I forgot to get anybody anything."

"Really?" asked Neville in surprise.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure where I can even go to get stuff for anyone."

"Oh, I see the problem," said Neville. "I asked Gran to send some gifts, but I suppose you don't have anyone to contact, since your relatives are Muggles. If we were older, we could go to Hogsmeade, but you need to be third-year to go."

"I'll get you something as soon as I can," Harry promised. "I feel awful I forgot."

"Don't worry about, H-Harriet," Neville said, barely stammering at all. "I'm just glad I wasn't the only one you didn't give a gift to."

"Oh is that what happened?"

It was Ron, who had just come down the stairs. "I'm glad Harriet is just plain forgetful then."

"Shut it," Harry growled with a smile. "You know, it's odd. I got two gifts I don't know who sent. That Invisibility Cloak, for one."

"Your _what _cloak?" Ron hissed.

Neville looked around the room in alarm. "You shouldn't be talking about that too loudly, Harriet. They are quite rare and it might get confiscated."

"Oh, all right then," said Harry, and he stuffed the cloak into his robes.

"Blimey," said Ron. "What was the other gift, Erumpet horn?"

"No, just a sweater and some fudge."

Ron groaned. "Well I know who sent you that. It was my mum - sorry, I told her you didn't expect any presents. But the fudge should be good; if you don't want it, I'll be glad to eat it."

"I expect you would," Harry quipped.

The holiday continued to go quite splendidly. Hogwarts continued to serve even more astoundingly delectable food, to the point where Harry felt his stomach might burst and even Ron seemed to get his fill. The crazed antics of the Weasleys and a frenzied snow fight also added an air of sheer joy to the air.

But Harry's mind kept returning to the mysterious cloak. A connection to his father, and a way to be hidden from anyone else while under the cloak - it was large enough to completely cover him.

So late that night, Harry crept out of bed, sneaking through the castle. His first thought was to check the Restricted Section of the library for anything that might relate to his curse, since normally students weren't permitted to see Restricted books. But one of the musty, old books startled Harry horribly when he opened it and it screamed.

He ran out of the library only to nearly step on Mrs. Norris, Filch's mangy old cat. Harry tried to stop and ended up tripping over the cloak, pulling it halfway off his head. With no time to readjust, Harry ran, just as Filch's lantern came into sight.

"Eh, what's this? Who goes there?"

Harry, of course, did not stop running, although he took a brief moment to throw back on the cloak and duck out sight.

"I saw you," Filch yelled, stomping down the hall and then completely passing Harry by. It appeared the Cloak worked as expected. "You can't hide forever," the twisted old man snarled. "And I saw your red hair - ain't that many of you in this school, probably a damned _Weasley _again."

His voice faded as Filch vanished down the hall.

Harry slowly released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He looked around and realized he was in a part of the castle he didn't recognize. Harry walked around a bit aimlessly, trying to get his bearings, but then he spotted a room with an open door. Something seemed to draw Harry to the room, and he slowly crept over.

On the wall of the room was a magnificent mirror, stretched up to the ceiling, with a mysterious inscription carved around the top:** Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.**

"How bizarre," Harry pondered softly. He walked over to the mirror to get a closer look, but when he casually glanced at the mirror, he had to clap a hand on his mouth to prevent himself from shouting.

There were people in the mirror surrounding his reflection. Harry looked around the room, but no one else was there. He moved closer to the mirror and saw himself standing next to oddly familiar people.

A beautiful red-haired woman stood there, waving and smiling. Her eyes were green too, just like Harry's eyes. And next to her stood a man with glasses and untidy black hair - very familiar black hair.

"Mum?" Harry whispered. "Dad?"

Could it be? Could they even hear him? Harry looked around carefully, realizing that the others in the reflection must be his various relatives, long gone.

A terrible ache came over him, and Harry stepped right up to the glass, as if he could fall right through it. If only he could just touch them...

But then another figure stepped into view, and Harry stood back in shock.

It was a girl, about Harry's height, with red hair and hazel eyes - almost like a miniature version of Harry's mother. The girl walked over to Harry's reflected self and put her arm under his shoulder. She winked and hugged the mirror Harry.

Harry stood shock still, unable to speak or move. And then an utterly mad temptation suddenly rushed over him.

"H-Harriet? Is that... you?" His other self, trapped forever?

The reflected girl laughed happily and just hugged the mirror Harry tighter.

Perhaps if he concentrated hard enough, Harry could almost feel it...

Harry didn't know how long he stood, watching himself and his girl self standing with his parents. But the images never faded.

Eventually he managed to wrench himself away and head back to bed.

But the next night, Harry desperately wanted to return to see the mirror, and Ron and Neville noticed his anxiety.

"What's wrong, Harriet?" asked Ron worriedly. "You seem out of sorts."

Then Harry realized that not only did he want to see the mirror, he also wanted his friends to see it as well - he _needed_ it. He had to know what they saw - a girl, or a boy? Harry had no evidence to back it up, but he somehow felt it would provide some clue to the great mysterious curse.

"There's something I want you guys to see," Harry quickly explained about the mirror, although he did not mention his "other" self.

"It shows your parents in it?" Neville asked nervously.

"No, just mine," assured Harry. "At least that's what I think it does."

Ron brightened. "It'd be cool to see your parents, Harriet. Let's go!"

Although the other two seemed a bit uncomfortable, they all fit comfortably under the cloak and slowly made their way to the mirror.

"Finally! Here it is," Harriet whispered.

He walked over, and sure enough, his parents and "Harriet" stood there, watching him.

"Come on, guys, don't you see?"

Ron and Neville both walked over and then gasped almost simultaneously.

"This... this can't be!" Ron said in shock.

Neville blinked and seemed like he was about to cry.

"Wait, I don't understand," said Harry. "Don't you see my parents?"

"Um, no," Ron gulped. "I don't see that. I see something else."

"What do you see in the Mirror?" Harry asked.

"Um, I'd rather not say," Ron said, his ears a bit red.

"What do you mean?" Harry turned to Neville in frustration. "What do you see Neville?"

Neville shook his head. "I don't want to say either."

Harry scowled and looked back at the mirror - then he had a sudden revelation. If their reflections were anything close to what he had seen, it must be something exceedingly personal. And Harry wasn't even revealing everything _he_ saw, after all.

"I'm sorry guys," Harry apologized. "I guess maybe it's kinda personal question. Never mind."

Ron looked askance at the mirror. "I don't like this mirror, Harriet. It's not right, I don't know. But I don't like it. We should go."

Neville nodded in agreement. "He's right, Harriet. We should go."

Harry was outvoted, so he sneaked back to the dorms with them. But he couldn't shake the temptation, and realized he knew he had to come back.

The next night, Harry quietly crept down the stairs to the common room, ready to revisit the mirror. But there, in the soft candlelight, Neville sat, reading a book.

Neville looked up. "Oh, I was wondering when you'd come down."

Harry blinked in surprise. "What do you mean? How did you know I'd want to go back?"

"I know," Neville said with a sigh. "Because I see the same thing."

"W-What?" Harry stammered. He moved closer so he could speak more quietly. "You mean you see my parents after all?"

"No," Neville shook his head. "I see _my_ parents."

"Oh, Neville, I didn't," Harry stopped. "I didn't realize your parents had also died."

Neville looked off with a distant expression. "I sometimes wish they had. It feels worse this way."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Neville looked back at Harry with a very determined look on his face. "Harriet, my parents are alive, but they aren't well. When I was only a baby, they were tortured badly until their minds broke. They've been in St. Mungo's since then. That's the Wizarding hospital."

Harry sat down, taken aback. "I... I don't know what to say, Neville. I'm so sorry."

"The point is that I know how you feel," Neville explained. "I've visited my parents, of course, but they rarely even seem to know it's me. I've never seen my parents healthy once in my life." He paused and then sighed. "I know I can't convince you not to go back to the Mirror. If my parents had died, I don't know that I could help it either. But I want you to realize that it's not natural, it's nor normal. That's the type of magical object that's in all the old stories - the thing that tries to trap you."

Harry swallowed. "Maybe, I can just go one more time?"

"Do you promise, Harriet?" Neville asked sternly. "There are real people who are your friends, not fake images behind glass."

Harry thought he had never seen Neville like this, and nodded.

"I promise," Harry said, honestly, meaning it. He hoped he could keep the promise.

But once back at the Mirror, Harry sat down with a frown, quite conflicted. The wondrous and confusing image before him and Neville's words kept vying for dominance in his head.

"So — back again, are we?"

Harry leaped up in the shock, his cloak falling off in his surprise.

Sitting on one of the desks was Professor Dumbledore.

* * *

_Next time..._

_A riddle, a face, and a heart._

"_So we're agreed then?" Parvati asked._

"_Yes," agreed Harry. "It's Volotredi."_


	6. 6: The Dark Lady Returns?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Quick Note: Sorry about the delay - a bit sick last week. Some people seem to think I made a mistake about Filch, because he seems to see Harry as a boy and a girl at different points of time. However, that was not a mistake; that was intentional - although that won't be explained until later.**

**Thanks again to my mysterious beta who dwells in the shadows of fanfiction, rarely emerging but ever watching, always watching.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER SIX: THE DARK LADY RETURNS?**

Harry gulped audibly and hoped he wasn't in trouble. "Professor, I didn't see you there."

"I find that being invisible sometimes means one isn't quite aware of their surroundings," said the Headmaster with an easy smile. "And you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised, which tends to have quite the distracting effect on one's senses."

"This was supposed to be my last time, sir," said Harry. "I know that it's not a good thing - that it's not right in some way."

Dumbledore nodded. "If true, that is an admirable attitude. The Mirror has ensnared many to waste away before its tempting images. I knew you would wish to return if you see what I expect, if you forgive me, your parents."

"Yeah." Harry sighed deeply. "But I wish I could've known them for real."

The Headmaster seemed to look a bit sadder. "And have you figured out the secret of the inscription?"

Harry looked back at the odd writing and shook his head. "No, I just thought it was a foreign language."

"Not quite, my dear," said Dumbledore. "The key is to read it in reverse."

"Oh?" Harry carefully read the letters backwards. "So let's see. I show not you, oh, that's your face but your hearts desire. Wait a moment." He blinked and thought for a minute. "So supposedly I should be seeing what I really want to see, even if it's not good for me to see it?"

"Very well put, Miss Potter," Dumbledore smiled. "That is precisely it. And now that you understand and as you did not plan to return in any event, you should not be concerned that I shall be moving the Mirror elsewhere."

Harry nodded. "Yes, that's fine." But then a sudden thought came to him, as he remembered the words of the Sorting Hat several months earlier. "Sir, if you have a minute, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all," assured the Professor. "Please feel free to ask me anything that concerns you. I will not lie to you, I promise, although there may be questions I cannot yet answer you."

Every other time Harry had tried asking someone about the curse, they had not seemed to understand. Only Ollivander seemed to hear Harry, but the wandmaker refused to believe. And the Sorting Hat wasn't really a person at all. None of his friends, none of the Professors. Harry had almost gotten used to the idea that he would always be called "Harriet".

He tried very hard not to hope too much at that moment.

"Sir, this may seem like an odd question, but do I look like a boy or a girl to you?"

Dumbledore blinked in surprise. "You appear as a girl, of course. Very similar to your mother, although with your father's eyes - and I daresay you've heard that particular description already."

Harry steeled himself, hoping he would be able to handle the inevitable disappointment when the Headmaster failed to understand him. "The thing is, sir, I'm not a girl. I'm actually a boy. And my name is Harry, not Harriet." He paused, thinking of something. "You could even ask the Sorting Hat!"

"I'm not sure I understand," said Dumbledore in confusion.

Harry sighed. "Never mind, I guess it was too much to hope for."

"But what do you mean, you are really a boy?" Dumbledore asked. "And what does the Sorting Hat have to do with it?"

"You-you mean you understood what I meant?"

"Of course I understood," said Dumbledore. "But I am not sure what you are trying to say. Do you believe that you are a boy in a girl's body?"

"No!" Harry insisted a bit angrily. "I mean that I actually _am_ a boy, not that I think I'm one. It's just that _everybody else_ seems to _think _I'm really a girl."

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "How odd. So when you look in a mirror, you see a boy's reflection?"

"Yes, exactly!" said Harry. "In fact, even the Dursleys thought I was a boy. Although they didn't really use my actual name much at all."

"My goodness," marvelled the Headmaster. "Perhaps... no, that couldn't be right. What did you say your proper name was?"

"Harry, of course. And might I say that I really hate the name Harriet? No offense to you if your Mum's named that, of course, but I don't like it."

Dumbledore chuckled. "No worries, Harr-" The Headmaster stopped speaking suddenly in mid-syllable. He frowned deeply. "Well, now, that _is_ extremely bizarre. I seem to be unable to say your actual name."

"You can't say 'Harry'? Why not?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore replied. "But it seems as if my mind does not wish to let me think of you as a boy, and the name you mentioned is a male one, so I literally cannot say it aloud. On the other hand, I do not have such limitations in my thoughts, as I can ignore internally what I apparently cannot externally."

"So you must believe me, then," said Harry excitedly. "That something is just odd and mysterious about it!"

"Oh, indeed I do... not-Harriet," responded Dumbledore. "As much as it pains me not to use your given name, not-Harriet, would it make you feel better if I simply called you 'Potter'?"

"I suppose so", Harry conceded. "I guess it's better than Harriet. Thank you for making the effort."

Dumbledore nodded with a smile. "Of course. Now then, it appears that there is a far more worrisome matter than the Mirror of Erised: this mysterious curse of yours. I can tell you that I do not know of anything like it, but do not despair. I have a great many resources, and I am certain that I can decipher the curse given some time."

"That would be... that would be wonderful," Harry said, an enormous wave of relief rushing over him. "Sure, I'm glad to have friends, even if they think I'm a girl, but I would still rather them know I'm a boy."

"You haven't told them?" Dumbledore inquired.

"I've tried, believe me," grumbled Harry. "Nobody seems to even understand me when I say I'm not a girl. Even the Professors, Flitwick, McGonagall... In fact, only the Sorting Hat and Ollivander seemed to understand, although Ollivander was kind of a jerk about it. Insisting I didn't know what I was talking about."

"Fascinating," the Professor mused. "I wonder what it is about Ollivander and the Sorting Hat that perceive your protestations differently from others. And myself, I suppose as well."

"I don't know," said Harry. "But the Hat actually said I should try talking to you about it. I guess I've never really had the time to ask you before, so I'm partly to blame. Please let me know if you find anything, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course I will, Potter Although your mention of McGonagall reminds me of something. A concern she brought to my attention."

"Oh, I think I know what you mean," Harry realized. "I kind of said I didn't want to live at the Dursleys anymore if I didn't have to. She said she'd look into it, although that was months ago."

"Yes she spoke to me about your relatives," said Dumbledore. "But as you might imagine, people act a bit differently when they think someone is a girl rather than a boy. I suppose people can more easily stomach difficult upbringings as regards to boys, but girls... That raises an ire and an instinctual protective reaction."

The Headmaster then chuckled. "You know, I believe that you have one advantage, seemingly appearing as you do, as opposed to say, your father. Professor Snape would probably not treat you as well if you did not look like his childhood friend."

Harry snorted a bit in amusement. "Yeah, he didn't exactly have complimentary words about my father." He paused and frowned. "But about the Dursleys - do you think you can help with that?"

Dumbledore sighed. "It is unfortunately not a simple matter, my dear not-girl. There are very powerful protections there against the forces of Volotredi and the Dark Lady herself, should she ever return. And you do not quite have the needed training in Defense to truly fight or escape from such evil."

"So you're saying I have to go back?" Harry said despondently. "Isn't there any alternative? I'm not picky, I'll even live here at Hogwarts. In fact, I'd love to do that."

"Well.." Dumbledore said slowly. "Perhaps there are some potential avenues I can explore. With the curse and my other responsibilities, I am not sure how far I will be able to proceed, but I promise you this: I will try my very best to assist you in every area you need such assistance."

Now Harry felt a bit embarrassed. "I didn't want to burden you or anything, sir. I guess I can keep going on like this if I have to."

Dumbledore shook his head sternly. "Nonsense, Not-Miss Potter! Such issues are hardly commonplace, nor should they be the burden of an eleven year old, be they boy, girl, or some mysterious mix between. Now, it is quite late. You should be off to bed, and I will find time to speak with the very moment I have news. Is that acceptable, Not-Miss Potter?"

Harry smiled readily. "Yes, thank you sir. It's the best news I've heard in a while."

* * *

The holidays had finally come to to close, and Harry waited eagerly for his returning friends. Of course, he had had a fine time with his male Gryffindor friends, but he missed the interactions of their rather large group. He even missed the never-ending debates that he was rarely able to follow between Hermione and Padma.

"Harriet!" A brightly smiling Parvati rushed over and grabbed Harry in a friendly hug. Harry still felt a bit odd about such expressions of affection, but he managed to somewhat return the embrace, feeling awkward until Parvati let go.

"How was your holiday?"

Harry chuckled. "A fair bit more eventful than I had anticipated, but it was good. Yours?"

"Oh, we had a marvelous time at home," Parvati said. "Didn't we, Padma?"

"Yes," her sister replied simply and in an almost toneless manner. "I assume you are well, Potter?"

"Um, yes, thank you," said Harry, a bit taken aback, but fairly used to Padma's brusque manner by this point.

"Have you seen Granger yet?" Padma asked calmly, a interesting glint in her eyes.

Harry shook his head. "No, but I'm sure she came with you on the train, so she's probably somewhere around."

"I think I will go look for her," Padma decided. "I need to see what she says about that controversial article in _Potions Periodical_." Without another word, she hurried off.

Harry turned to look back at Parvati, who had a sort of funny smile on her face.

"What?" He asked.

"Oh, you know perfectly well 'what'," answered Parvati. "You heard my sister. That's how it was the entire holiday. 'Granger said this' and 'Granger said that' - actually became quite annoying for the rest of the family, but my parents were so pleased she had any friends at all, they pretended to listen."

"You mean like we always do?" Harry said with a grin.

Parvati giggled. "Yes, exactly. And don't tell anyone, but I think Hermione was hiding from us on the train."

"Are you saying she wasn't up to a intellectual debate?" Harry asked incredulously. "Somehow I doubt it."

"Oh not that," Parvati said quickly. "I mean that Padma was sending her at least five owls a day, asking about things I'm sure the rest of us barely comprehend. And maybe, just maybe, Hermione might have been a bit worried that my sister was getting obsessive."

"Was she?" Harry asked.

Parvati shrugged. "I don't know, really. She's been like this since we were kids. I love her, of course, but she's a bit odd with people sometimes. I'm so pleased the group has accepted her."

"I don't have any problems with Padma," Harry assured his friend. "And I think that the very instant Padma says something Hermione disagrees with, she will not be able to hold it in very long at all."

Parvati laughed. "I think you're probably right at that. And thank you for being so accepting; you're a wonderful person."

Harry flushed in embarrassment. "Well now, no need to get ridiculous about it. And I don't want to forget, but I owe you a Christmas present as soon as I can get to a store."

"Don't worry about it at all, Harriet," Parvati smiled. "I figured you probably didn't have an easy way to mail for presents. Actually, there are some owl-order things you can do, the _Prophet_ often has adverts for them."

A sudden high-pitched squealing caused Harry to step back in surprise.

Lavender had appeared, and was hugging Parvati, who squealed in return.

"Oh, hello Lavender," Harry said slowly. "Have a good holiday?"

Lavender smiled. "Well don't just stand there!"

"Um, no, of course not." Harry managed to awkwardly embrace Lavender, who wasn't nearly as shy in returning it.

"You both look fantastic!" said Lavender.

This was something Harry had already gotten used to, and he had already learned how to respond.

"Nonsense," Harry insisted. "You're the one that looks fantastic."

"Oh are we on about that again?"

It was Hermione, looking slightly bedraggled.

"Hermione, good to see you," Parvati said with a sly grin. "I think my sister is looking for you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, I noticed. I'm sure you already know about all the letters she sent, considering you were together for the holiday."

"All the letters?" Lavender asked, looking very excited for a touch of gossip.

"Apparently Padma sent Hermione something like five letters a day," explained Harry. "I'm surprised you didn't appreciate an exchange of the minds, Hermione."

Hermione scowled. "Oh, don't you start in! I just wanted a bit of time on the train to study and read by myself without getting into another discussion on the ethics of using rare animal components for Potions, or whatever it was she was being annoying about."

"Oi!" Ron shouted a bit and came over with Neville. "Nice to see you lot. I think Harriet missed having some other girls around."

"Well now we're back," said Lavender with a smile. "And we outnumber you again."

"Hey!" Ron said with a frown.

"Oh no," Hermione grumbled. "Here comes your sister."

Indeed, Padma had appeared, as if from nowhere at all.

"Granger, did you get to read that article in _Potions Periodical_ that everyone was arguing about?"

Hermione scowled. "I had a fine holiday, and I hope you did as well."

Padma nodded. "Yes, yes, everyone had a simply marvelous holiday. But you did read the article?"

"Yes," said Hermione with a bit of an exasperated moan. "The very idea... no wonder it was controversial, saying it was acceptable to harvest organs from sentient magical beings!"

"I thought you would say that," said Padma. "So you agree that the gains in Potions research far outweigh the minor moral issues associated with killing lesser magical creatures?"

"What?" Hermione yelped. "Minor moral issues? Lesser magical creatures? Have you gone utterly mad?"

As Hermione continued her angry rebuttal, Harry watched Padma's face. In the time he had known her, Harry felt he was getting better at reading the Ravenclaw's often disconcerting facial expressions. And in the wake of Hermione's righteous fury, Padma seemed a bit happy.

And oddly enough, that didn't surprise Harry at all.

* * *

As the term continued, schoolwork and Quidditch practice kept Harry from focusing much on either of his mysteries. The Headmaster would often surreptitiously wink as he passed in the hallways, which let Harry know that at they very least Dumbledore had not forgotten their discussion. The study sessions that were ostensibly about the Mystery tended to actually focus on studying, but the group dynamic seemed to get to a point where it seemed everyone got along with everyone else. Padma had been showing up to their sessions so much that Harry began to wonder if she had any Ravenclaw friends at all.

Eventually when he had a private moment with Parvati, he cautiously broached the subject.

"I'm not offended by the question, Harriet", said Parvati reassuringly. "The truth is that my sister really doesn't much talk about anyone she knows or not in Ravenclaw. And I get the feeling she doesn't much care for them, although I wouldn't go spreading that around."

Harry snorted. "Obviously not. I'm not an idiot. Like I've said before, of course I don't mind Padma hanging out with us, but I still wondered."

Parvati nodded a bit sadly. "Yeah, but my feeling is that at least she has friends other than me. I had despaired of that for a long time."

Harry nodded, letting the subject drop.

Soon enough, it was time for another Quidditch match, this time against Hufflepuff. By this point, Harry felt so utterly confident he caught the Snitch in under five minutes.

Back in the Gryffindor dorm, celebrating with the rest of his house, Harry noticed someone was missing.

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry asked his friends.

"No!" Lavender said with a shocked expression. "He's not here, is he? Didn't he come back with us?"

"I think I saw him borrow one of the brooms," Neville ventured.

Parvati frowned and shook her head. "Oh dear, what is that foolish boy up to?"

"Maybe we should tell a prefect?" Hermione asked slowly. "Or at least make sure he's okay."

This idea went back and forth for a bit, but as it turned out, they didn't have to wait too long before Ron slunk into the common room. He was filthy, covered with mud and leaves, but he had a brilliant smile on his face.

"Oh look at you!" Lavender clucked her tongue. "Did you crash your broom into the mud?"

Ron put a hand behind his head nervously. "Ah, so you saw that. Actually, I did crash a little bit, but I'm fine."

"And the broom?" Harry asked a bit sternly.

"Of course it's also fine!" Ron assured them. "But that's not the point. I saw Snape sneaking off in a run, and I had to follow."

"You did not follow the Professor on a _broom_!" Hermione hissed in disapproval. "That's beyond foolishness."

"I wasn't going to catch up on foot," Ron pointed out. "Plus I'm a fair hand with a broom - obviously not Harriet's level, of course, but I can fly a straight line."

"But you crashed, didn't you?" asked Parvati with a grin.

Ron smiled and nodded. "Tease all you like, I was in a bit of a hurry coming back. But I have some major news - I overheard him and Quirrell arguing!"

"Ooh, really?" Lavender asked in excitement. "Let's talk in the corner so we're not overheard."

"Good idea," said Ron.

"All right," Harry whispered when they were a bit away from the noisy crowd. "So what did you hear?"

"It's just like I always figured," Ron said in a rush. "Snape was threatening Quirrell, asking if he'd found a way past Fluffy yet. Highly suspicious, if you ask me."

Lavender nodded. "Yes, I quite agree. Snape threatening poor defenseless Quirrell; why, he couldn't hurt a fly!"

"Which is _highly _disappointing, considering the subject he teaches," Hermione sniffed. "But we shouldn't rush to conclusions here. It's possible that Quirrell is the one trying to steal the stone."

"Oh now you're being ridiculous!" Ron insisted. "Quirrell is like a stuttering child! Back me up, Neville."

"Well," Neville said slowly. "I don't know, I don't really like Quirrell much either. Something seems off about him too."

Ron grunted and waved his hand in dismissal. "Not as much as Snape, though. You have to give me that much."

"I'm going to suspect Quirrell," said Harry. "Just because I like disagreeing with you."

Ron smirked. "Harriet, sometimes I think it's that you just like being too clever."

Harry nodded. "Point."

* * *

"So then I hear that Lisa has been saying the most _awful_ things about Mandy behind her back, but just smiles to her face," said Parvati with relish. "Can you _believe _it?"

"What did she say?" Lavender asked.

Harry groaned softly and tried to block out the conversation with his pillow. It was frightfully late, and Harry had no interest in joining in the latest gossip sessions about girls he didn't really know.

And asking Hermione to vote to keep it down wouldn't help, as she was immersed in some late night studying, ignoring her surroundings completely. But the pillow muffled some of the sound at least.

"Are you _quite _certain?" Lavender whispered loudly in response to something.

Parvati said something Harry couldn't make out; it was hard to say if almost hearing it was worse than hearing it full blast.

The next day, an exhausted Harry stumbled from class to class, not really paying attention to the people around him, feeling in a cloud of haze.

McGonagall had noticed and asked to see Harry after class.

"Miss Potter, are you quite all right? You seem to be barely functional today."

"I'm sorry, Professor," said Harry. "I just didn't get much sleep last night. Plus the Mystery and the..." Harry yawned, not quite in his right mind. "You know, Stone, and all. It's been mad keeping up."

"What did you say?" McGonagall asked sharply.

Harry frowned and tried to focus his thoughts. "Um, that I didn't get much sleep?"

"No, about this Mystery of yours. I thought this was something to do with your mother's research."

Harry thought he may have said something out of place, but wasn't quite awake enough to figure out what exactly. "Yes, that's right. But it won't happen again, I promise."

The Professor frowned. "Very well, Miss Potter, but be sure to get more sleep or you may end up spending time in the Infirmary. Are we clear?"

Harry nodded, and McGonagall dismissed him

Later in the library, they sat around fairly listlessly. Harry had become slightly more alert, and noticed that the other girls were seemingly just as tired, although he had been too out of it earlier to notice. Hermione was not only tired, but unnervingly stressed as well.

"I can't believe exams are practically here, and with barely enough time to study!"

Parvati yawned. "Aren't they like two months away?"

"More like ten weeks," corrected Hermione. "And besides, I don't know that it's enough time to not fail!"

"Hello Gryffindors." Padma walked over and sat down with them. "Preparing for final exams, are you?"

"I expect this type of thing from you Ravenclaws," Ron said with a scowl. "But why'd you have to go infect Hermione? You know she's overly susceptible to mere suggestions of requiring studying."

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Ron, you know what 'susceptible' means?"

Ron shrugged. "Guess I must've picked it up somewhere." He smirked. "Blimey, I wonder where?"

Lavender giggled, albeit with a bleary expression. "I'm glad that we manage to learn something from them even if we can't just follow along normally."

"So Padma," Harry asked. "Have you also started preparing for exams?"

"No," Padma said in mild surprise. "I'm already prepared."

"What?" Hermione looked up with shock. "You know the material already?"

Now Padma actually looked a bit confused. "Don't you?"

"She does," Neville put in with a small smile. "But she worries about our grades."

Hermione smiled at this, but then frowned. "Well, I'm not sure I know everything I need to. What if the exams cover the advanced uses of Dittany or the lineage of Uric the Oddball?"

"And what if they don't?" Ron pointed out. "We've barely talked about either of those things this year."

Harry nodded. "He's right, Hermione. None of us are about to tell you not to study - we know better than that. Just don't overly stress yourself, okay?"

"Yes," replied Hermione slowly. "Yes, all right, that's a reasonable position to take."

"Say," said Ron suddenly. "Is that Hagrid over there? It is! Oi, Hagrid!"

Sure enough, the large man was there, hiding something very obviously, even enough to penetrate Harry's sleepy haze. "Um, hello, you lot."

He then noticed Padma sitting next to the others. "Ah, Parvati, it's yer sister, right? Padma, was it?"

"Yes!" said Padma with sudden excitement, which jarred Parvati and Lavender a bit more awake. "And you are Rubeus Hagrid, the Keeper of the Grounds and Keys! The progenitor of the Mystery of the Trapdoor that hides Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone that someone is trying to steal!"

Hagrid was so surprised he actually dropped the book he had been hiding. Harry caught a glimpse before Hagrid snatched up - it looked to be something on the care of dragons.

"Now look you lot!" Hagrid whispered a bit angrily. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh!"

"Yes, Padma," Hermione chided. "It is a _secret_ after all, isn't it?"

Padma nodded but still seemed a tad overly excited.

Hagrid sighed. "S'pose it was foolish to think yeh'd forget about it. If you come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh - don' want that spreadin' around. Will yeh stop talkin' 'bout it in public then?"

"Yes, of course," Harry said quickly before anyone could answer. "Thank you for trusting us - we would never betray your confidence."

Hagrid's mouth quirked about a bit, as if he was trying to hide a smile. "Right, see you lot later then." The large man held his hidden book close and quickly rushed out of the library.

"Do you think he actually has pertinent information to convey?" Padma asked the others.

"He _does_ seem to know a bit about everything that goes on around here," said Hermione thoughtfully. "We can share our concerns about Quirrell and Snape as well and see if he dismisses the evidence like last time. Perhaps he might have a different perspective on things."

"What was he hiding, I wonder?" Ron pondered. "Saw him drop a book."

"I saw something," said Harry. "Something to do with caring for dragons, I think."

"Oh dear," Parvati frowned. "I don't have quite a good feeling about that."

Sure enough, as they approached Hagrid's hut later, every single curtain was closed in a somewhat foreboding manner.

"Why do I feel an impeding sense of doom?" Ron grumbled.

Neville looked about nervously. "I don't think anyone's followed us. Are we doing anything wrong?"

"Enough you two!" Hermione said chidingly. "You are both being ridiculous. It's not like Hagrid actually has an_ illegal dragon _in his _wooden hut_. Be reasonable."

Harry exchanged a worried look with Ron and Parvati, both of whom seemed just about as anxious. Lavender seemed far too tired to care, and Padma had a very disconcerting smile on her face.

"There's probably not enough room in there, anyway," said Neville. "Why don't I just hide out here and watch for anyone just in case?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

But sure enough, when Hagrid finally let them in, the hut was stifling hot, with a fairly large fire blazing in the grate.

"No," Hermione said almost stubbornly. "No, Hagrid. No, you did _not_ get a _dragon_!"

Hagrid's mouth dropped. "Now how in the world did yeh hear about tha'?"

Ron cursed softly. "Merlin's bum! I knew it."

"What kind of dragon?" Padma asked eagerly. "Is it a native British one? Foreign?"

Hagrid smiled and nodded in pride. "Yeah, he's a Norwegian Ridgeback. Least I think it's a he. Hasn't hatched yet. Look, the egg's over here!"

Padma was the first to push over to see the egg in the heart of the fire.

"How exciting!" she said. "So it's still in the third phase of incubation."

"Yeah, that's right!" Hagrid said with a brightened expression. "Yeh got it dead on. Only a bit while longer til he hatches."

Padma nodded. "What does it eat? I assume some sort of meat and alcohol, since he'll be just a baby."

"Nicely thought out, lass!" Hagrid chuckled. "Yeh know yer dragons, yeh do. This type is usually okay with any kind o' meat, of course, but yer supposed teh to use brandy as the inflammatory agen'."

"How interesting!" Padma said with clear delight in her eyes, which seemed highly unusual for the mostly taciturn girl.

Ron squeezed in between Harry and Lavender. "Is it the dragon or Hagrid that's got her so excited?" he whispered in an exasperated tone to them so the others couldn't quite overhear.

Lavender clucked her tongue softly. "Oh, I hope she hasn't fallen in love with him."

"Lavender!" Ron looked back with horror. "Don't say such awful things!"

"Where did you even get the thing?" Parvati asked, thankfully having not heard that little exchange.

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"So," Hermione started to say something then stopped. She took a very deep breath. "So anyway, we shall all just forget about the illegal dragon operation, otherwise I am sure I will probably faint with the stress of it all. Let's talk about the Stone, shall we?"

"Yes," said Harry in agreement. "We're thinking it's Volotredi." The others all winced. "Um, that is, You-Know-You. I mean that she's related somehow. Or maybe it's not her at all, but someone else. It seems like the mostly likely suspects are Quirrell and Snape."

"I vote Snape!" Ron put in.

"Agreed," Lavender said with a nod.

Parvati shook her head. "No, Snape's a jerk, but I think Harriet's right that he's not actually evil. Quirrell is altogether too odd not to suspect something."

Hagrid seemed a bit taken aback. "Well, I think that Dumbledore's worried abou' You-Know-You a bit, actually. But don't worry yer heads about it. He got most o' the Professors to help out to protect the Stone, and I helped with Fluffy, o' course."

"I think Fluffy sounds quite fascinating," said Padma with a grin. "A three-headed dog must be an interesting creature to care for."

"Oh, Fluffy's a great dog," Hagrid said fondly. "Nice to see kids interested in the care o' magical creatures. Most people would jus' rather not even talk about it."

Padma scowled. "How shortsighted. But did you read that article a few months ago in _Potions Periodical _about the moral problems of killing magical creatures for components?"

Hagrid chuckled nervously. "Eh, no, my readin' skills ain't quite all that good. But I heared abou' it, I can tell yeh that much. Messy business, it is."

Harry cleared his throat. "Oh, sorry to interrupt," he said insincerely. "But Hagrid, you said most of the Professors helped with the protections, right?"

"Oh, I see your point," said Hermione in realization. "Did Quirrell or Snape help out with the protections?"

Hagrid nodded. "Yeah, they did. Professor Sprout — Professor Flitwick — Professor McGonagall —" he ticked them off on his fingers, "An' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Great man, that Dumbledore."

"I wonder what he did," Ron wondered. "I'd expect something crazy and brilliant, maybe with a bunch of crazy colors."

Lavender and Parvati laughed.

"Yes, that does sound like him," replied Parvati.

"Here's an interesting question," said Hermione, tapping her chin in thought. "Do the Professors all know how to get past everything? Or is the knowledge kept compartmentalized from each person?"

Hagrid frowned in confusion. "Not sure wha' yeh mean by that last bit, but I don't think they know abou' everything. I'm sure nobody but me and the Headmaster knows how teh get past Fluffy."

Ron sighed in obvious relief. "Well that's something at least. Frightful beast he may be, but at least Snape can't get past a giant bloodthirsty dog monster."

"You mean _Quirrell_ can't get past Fluffy," riposted Parvati.

"Oh no he doesn't!" Lavender insisted.

"Or maybe it's just You-Know-Who," Harry made sure to point out. "And Snape and Quirrell are just independently interested in the Stone."

"When does it hatch?" Padma asked with a wide smile. "I would certainly like to see it!"

Parvati groaned and leaned over to Harry. "She has got to get her priorities in order."

* * *

It wasn't long, only a week or so, before Harry received a note from Hagrid that the dragon was hatching. This led to a bit of an argument.

"I think it's exciting," Ron said. "I mean, how often do you get to see a dragon hatching?"

Hermione glared. "Think about Hagrid for once - even if he doesn't himself! We should tell a Professor about this, or maybe even the Headmaster! Hagrid will be a lot worse off if he gets caught with a dragon - at least the professors can actually keep him from getting into further trouble!"

"As for me," said Padma primly. "I wish to see the hatching - it is a singular occurrence, as Weasley pointed out quite astutely."

"Thank you?" Ron replied, a bit confused.

"I think Hermione's right, unfortunately," Neville said glumly. "Hagrid just doesn't seem to be in his right mind about it, and there are serious penalties to illegally raising dangerous magical creatures."

Harry frowned. "I'm supposed to meet McGonagall about something during morning's break, so I'm not sure I can make it over there. Maybe I can casually bring it up the _possibility_ of someone _accidentally _having a dragon in Hogwarts."

"Oh come on, Harriet," protested Parvati. "Don't get Hagrid into trouble!"

"I wouldn't do that!" Harry assured them. "I just don't want to see him burning down his hut!"

"So it's settled then," Ron said with a nod. "We'll head over, Harriet will meet with McGonagall, and Neville will stay outside as lookout since he's too afraid to come inside."

"Hey!" Neville yelped.

"It's true, though, isn't it?" Lavender teased with a smile. "Besides, if we're dealing with something illegal, it's probably a decent idea to have someone watching outside."

Neville nodded. "Yes, a very good point. Good points all around, everyone."

It turned out that Professor McGonagall had a few things on her mind.

"Miss Potter, the Headmaster has informed me that he has been looking into your housing issue."

Harry brightened. "Oh, good, so where do you think I can live then?'

The Professor frowned sourly. "I am afraid the arrangements have not all been taken care of. Professor Dumbledore believes that he will be able to push things around without attracting attention from undesirables, which is not easy when one is speaking about the Girl-Who-Lived mind, although don't let that go to your head! Unfortunately, such careful attention means that the Headmaster believes it will only be possible to leave those... _Muggle relatives of yours_." She practically spat these last words.

"Only after next term," she finished. "But he says that you should keep sending letters to us, that is myself and the Headmaster, and possibly Professor Snape as well, every week or so to ensure that the Dursleys are staying on their best behavior."

Harry nodded and sighed. "I suppose I can live with that for now, especially with the promise of leaving soon. Will I have to stay there all summer long?"

"Hopefully not," McGonagall replied. "But we won't know for certain until closer to the end of the term. Now, as for a separate matter, there is the issue of this Mystery of yours."

"You know about that?" Harry asked in surprise, then remembered himself. "I mean, the Mystery of my Mum's research, you mean? Of course, anything to report."

The Professor looked highly suspicious. "No, Miss Potter. Nothing as of yet. But a few weeks ago, you mentioned a 'Stone' to me - do you recall that?"

"Um," Harry swallowed nervously. "No, no, not at all ma'am. Perhaps what I actually said was... Tome. As in the Tome of Women's Magic. Have you ever heard of that, Professor?"

"Hmm." McGonagall did not appear that appeased. "That is not a book I have heard of, Miss Potter. Are you sure you haven't made it up?"

"Why would I do that?" Harry asked, trying to plaster an innocent smile on his face, but getting the feeling his teacher wasn't at all fooled. "I'm sure I wouldn't even begin to know about anything I'm not supposed to know about."

"See that you do not," McGonagall said sternly. "I assure you, rules are in place for a reason. And your safety is just one of those reasons. Please ensure your friends understand this as well."

Harry nodded, inching towards the door. "Yes, certainly, Professor. May I go now?"

The Professor nodded and Harry sped off, hoping to catch his friends before they came back.

Unfortunately, something awful had apparently happened.

"Someone was spying on us!" Ron said indignantly. "Can you believe it? Neville caught a glimpse, and I don't think you'll be surprised who it was."

"It was Malfoy," Neville whispered. "He didn't realize I was outside, but when I was walking around the hut, I saw him. I shouted, but he ran off."

Parvati smiled with pride. "Do you hear that? Neville, our ever watchful lookout."

"But did the dragon hatch?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "And you will not _believe_ what Hagrid called it."

Harry smirked. "Something cute and out of place? Was it Mr. Ticklesworth?"

Lavender giggled. "No, far worse."

"It was _Norbert_," Ron said with relish. "The most ridiculous name for a dragon I've ever heard. And my brother Charlie works with dragons, so I've heard more than a few odd ones."

"Wow," said Harry. "That is a bit odd, even for Hagrid. But what about Malfoy?"

Parvati scowled. "That little Slytherin git may not have seen much, but that won't stop him from complaining to someone about it. Maybe you can find Snape before he does? He might actually listen to you."

Harry considered this. "I dunno, Snape might not like Hagrid. Or maybe he does, I don't actually know."

"We can't take that risk!" Lavender insisted. "But what else can we do?"

"I know what we should do," Padma said firmly. "We should raise the dragon on our own."

Everyone else stopped talking and looked at the Ravenclaw in disbelief.

Padma nodded at her own words. "It would be a most educational experience, don't you think Granger?"

Hermione scowled. "Not everything is about studying, _Patil_. No offense, Parvati."

Ron gasped. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Hermione?"

Parvati pushed him to the side and grinned. "On using my surname or implying I don't like studying?"

"Take your pick," said Hermione graciously.

"You are crazy," Padma insisted. "Education is the most important pursuit."

Hermione was about to reply, so Harry cleared his throat.

"Let's not start into that right now, all right?" he asked pleadingly. "I kind of forgot to ask McGonagall about the dragon, so maybe I can really subtlety ask Snape for help?"

"No!" Ron shook his head. "Sorry, Harriet, but I don't trust him."

"So what should we do?" Lavender sighed dramatically. "Poor Hagrid."

Harry gasped. "Wait, Ron, didn't you just say your brother works with dragons?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, so? Oh, I get it!" He grinned. "Brilliant! Well spotted, Harriet. And this way, we can keep Evil Professor Snape out of the loop."

"Evil Professor Snape, is it?" Parvati snicked. "Don't let him overhear you say that. He'd not care for it."

"Or worse," Lavender put in. "He might actually enjoy it."

* * *

It turned out that Charlie and his dragon handling friends were more than happy to take Norbert off their hands. Hagrid wasn't happy about, but Hermione managed to distract him from being overly depressed by constantly asking Padma to interrogate Hagrid about something involving magical creatures. Padma was often doing this anyway, so that part was easy enough to play, and Hagrid did seem to feel a kind of odd kindred spirit with the Ravenclaw.

Ron and Neville had volunteered to take the dragon up to the tallest tower to meet with the dragon handlers in a few days at the designated meeting time, and Harry had very generously agreed to lend them his Invisibility Cloak.

"You are too nice sometimes, Harriet," Ron had said in an almost embarrassed voice.

"We won't let anything happen to it!" Neville had then insisted fiercely. "I'll jump off the tower first!"

"Nobody's jumping off any towers," Harry told them. "You guys are more important than any magical cloak, no matter how valuable. Understood?"

They both seemed fairly surprised to hear that.

Harry waited in the common room that night with the other girls, all of them incredibly anxious.

Finally, after several nerve-wracking hours had passed, the two boys climbed through the portrait hole. Neville looked horribly saddened for some reason, but he ran over to the girls, Cloak in his hands.

"Here you are, Harriet. I made sure never to let go of it."

Harry laughed. "I can see that, I never doubted you for a moment. How did it go?"

Ron walked over, a half-smile on his face. "Well, we have some good news and bad news. First, we did manage to get Norbert out of here - not easy getting him from Hagrid, mind you!"

"I'm just glad Padma wasn't there," said Parvati with a grin. "She might've tried to stop you."

"So what's the bad news?" Lavender asked.

Ron chuckled. "No, that part's just news. The good news is that Malfoy was waiting to catch us but didn't manage - with the Cloak and all. And McGonagall saw him and gave him detention!"

"Ooh!" Lavender clapped her hands. "That _is_ good news. Then what's the bad news?"

Ron sighed and sank into a chair. "McGonagall caught us after that and gave us detention."

Neville made a kind of choked sound. "It's h-horrible. We had to take off the Cloak to get the dragon over to the handlers, and then we forgot to put it back on. We were right there in plain sight! I'm so sorry!"

"Calm down, Neville," Harry soothed. "We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you managed to get Norbert away without getting Hagrid into trouble. And you brought back my Cloak. _And_ you managed to get Malfoy into trouble too!"

Ron pumped a fist. "Yes, thank you!"

As the day of their detention grew closer, things got into more of a lull. The older Gryffindors weren't happy at Ron and Neville's lost points, but they couldn't help but be pleased that at the very least Slytherin was down as well. Exams had come ever closer, and everyone, not just Hermione, was focused only on studying. They barely even mentioned the Mystery of the Trapdoor.

When Neville and Ron stood up, late at night, for their detention, Harry made sure to start a round of applause, which was quickly imitated by the others.

Neville blushed and Ron just laughed.

"We'll stay up until you get back," Harry promised. "We need to study anyway. Hermione will be glad for that."

Hermione smiled. "Well said, Harriet."

"Don't study too hard without us," Ron said teasingly. "You might steal all the studying and not leave any for us."

But it was very late, nearly morning, before they came back, both looking a mixture of horrified and determined.

Harry managed to pull himself awake and nudged the girls. "So what happened?"

Ron blew out a heavy breath and collapsed into a chair. "You will not _believe_ what happened. We were out with Malfoy, of course, but the detention was with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest."

"What?" Lavender shrieked then clapped a hand over her mouth. "That's madness!"

"Why?" Hermione asked in horror. "And why at night?"

"Ground work, we thought," Ron replied. "But then Hagrid said a unicorn had been attacked."

Parvati and Lavender gasped.

"Is that so odd?" Hermione asked.

Parvati's mouth dropped wide. "I'm shocked you didn't know about this already Hermione."

"It's probably a wizard thing," Neville said in support. "Killing unicorns is one of the most horrible things anyone can do - it's a well known legend."

Hermione frowned. "I see. I suppose I will have to research it."

"Never mind that," Ron said, waving his hands. "And remind me to mention the wondrous look on Malfoy's scared face later. Neville saw who killed the unicorn."

Neville swallowed audibly. "It wasn't Snape. I don't think it was Quirrell either. But the centaurs told us who it was."

"Oh no," Harry said in realization. "It wasn't?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, exactly. You-Know-Who herself, killing a blasted unicorn of all things!"

Lavender growled, which was unusual for her. "Oh, but I hate her."

"I guess we know who's after the stone, then, don't we?" Hermione said with a fierce expression.

"Yes," Ron conceded. "Snape might be helping, but at the very least it's not just him."

"So we're agreed then?" Parvati asked.

"Yes," agreed Harry. "It's Volotredi."

* * *

Time practically rushed by as their exams came and went, despite the incredible stress of balancing school and worrying about the Stone. The only one who didn't seem concerned was, unsurprisingly, Padma - for her part, Hermione was actually far _more_ anxious than anyone else about the exams.

"Why aren't you even worried?" Hermione asked Padma at one point, beyond frazzled.

Padma had shrugged. "Why should I be?"

Hermione had almost screamed but visibly held it back. "Are you so certain you'll get everything right?"

"No," Padma had replied, sounding very unconcerned. "And what does it matter? After all, isn't learning the more important part of it? You said so yourself weeks ago."

Hermione had no reply to that.

Finally, horrifyingly, the final day of exams had come; but, the Stone still seemed to be safe - they could still hear Fluffy breathing heavily behind the locked door. In a very nice thought, after their last exam, History of Magic, Hagrid had invited them all out for a bit of a celebratory tea.

Of course once there, Hagrid and Padma took no time at all before starting to chatter away about all manner of dangerous magical creatures.

"I think it's interesting how benign things like music can really 'soothe the savage beast', as the saying goes," Padma said to Hagrid.

Hagrid nodded. "Yeah, jus' most folks don't get it. I rem'mber sayin' somethin' like that to the guy I bought Norbert from. Couldn't see his face, but I could tell he was int'rested. So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep."

Padma laughed a bit shrilly. "Oh, it does seem obvious when you already know, doesn't it?"

Hagrid chuckled as well. "Aye, lass, very true. Very true."

Harry frowned at this conversation, which most of them had been ignoring as opposed to just relaxing after the exams. Something Hagrid had just said...

"Hagrid," Harry interjected. "Did you just say you told the guy you won Norbert off of how to get past Fluffy? Did you see who it was?"

Hagrid frowned. "Yeah, I guess yeh could put it like that. But I dunno who it was - face was hidden, didn't recognize the voice. All scratched and gravely."

Ron leaped up suddenly in his seat. "Was it Snape?"

"Or was it Quirrell?" Parvati made sure to add.

"Or perhaps You-Know-Who?" Hermione ventured carefully.

"What?" Hagrid frowned and shook his head. "Nah, that's silly. I mean, it couldn' been any of them - could it?" Now the large man looked very worried. "You don't think it was someone trying to get the Stone, do yeh?"

Harry stood up quickly and put down his tea. "Hagrid, thank you for the tea, but it seems we have to alert the Headmaster immediately. Do you know where he is?"

"Not sure," Hagrid said. "But probably his office. Good idea to make sure, actually. Glad you kids thought of it."

As they scrambled to get out, Lavender stopped and smiled to Hagrid. "Thanks again for everything Hagrid. Everything Harriet says about you it is true."

The enormous man flushed a bit at that. "Well now, yeh don't need to go on like that. Just go find Dumbledore, he'll know what to do."

"I'm staying," Padma announced. "I'm not finished my tea, and besides, Hagrid still hasn't told me about the feeding habits of Nundu."

Parvati scowled. "Padma!"

Hagrid laughed. "It's an inter'sting thing to talk about, that's true. I suppose there's no harm in havin' one of yeh stick around."

"Fine!" Harry almost yelled. "The rest of us, let's go! The Stone might be in danger right now!"

The group all ran to the castle, although some were breathing a bit hard when they came through the gates.

"Wait," said Harry. "Does anyone know where the Headmaster's Office even is?"

The others shook their heads.

"Merlin's smelly foot!" Ron cursed. "Now what?"

"Oh, look, it's Professor McGonagall!" Hermione raced over to the Transfiguration Professor, who was nearly in a run herself.

"What?" McGonagall looked down in surprise. "Miss Granger, I have no time for questions. There is an emergency meeting of all the Professors and I must go right away."

"But it's about the Stone!" Hermione insisted, almost in tears.

"Don't you think I know that?" The Professor said angrily. "Let _us _take care of it, and don't get involved." With that, she ran off down the hallway.

"Well that was pointless," muttered Parvati.

"Maybe we should go check on the door?" Ron ventured.

Harry nodded. "Good idea. At least we can check to see if the door is still safe."

Neville groaned, looking a bit more out of breath than the others. "More running?"

"Keep your chin up, Neville," Harry said with a grin. "It's for a good cause after all."

Neville nodded and his face now looked quite determined. "All right, let's go."

But when they reached the door, it seemed they had arrived too late. The door was wide open, and Fluffy was completely asleep - a harp was playing itself nearby.

"Oh, this is very bad!" Lavender shrieked. "Harriet, what are we going to do?"

Harry then realized the answer and a shiver ran through him. "We have to go in ourselves."

_

* * *

Next time..._  
_Harry face-to-face with someone from his past._

_"Who creates a giant sentient chess set?" Hermione cried out in frustration._

"_Well, I would if I could," Ron admitted._


	7. 7: The Mystery of the Mirror

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**All praise goes to the almighty beta, who sees typos before they exist and drags plot inconsistencies, horribly screaming, into the bowels of nothingness.**

**CHAPTER SEVEN: THE MYSTERY OF THE MIRROR**

"Okay, let me think for a second," Harry paced back and forth in front of Fluffy's door. "We need to follow after whoever it is - probably You-Know-Who in some manner, though. But we still should find the Professors and tell them about it - in case they don't already know."

"I'll do it," Lavender interjected. "I'm rubbish at the kind of magic you'd need to go after You-Know-Who. At least this way I'm still being useful."

"That's not fair," Harry insisted forcefully. "You're just as useful as any one of us. We don't all need to go in the trapdoor after all."

"Well, how about this, then?" Parvati asked. "I'll go one way, and Lav can go the other. And if we can't find anyone, we'll come straight back here to watch the exit."

Harry nodded. "That's a good idea. We don't know what's down there - the rest of you don't have to follow me."

Ron scowled. "Don't be stupid, Harriet. If we're not doing something useful like trying to alert the staff, we're not going to just sit around twiddling our thumbs."

"He's right," said Hermione. "We're going with you."

Neville looked pale but still nodded.

"Fine, then," said Harry. "No time to argue. Let's go!"

Parvati and Lavender each raced off in separate directions, and the others gingerly approached the slumbering beast. Hermione peered down the open trapdoor with a lit wand.

"I think there's some sort of cushioning," she said slowly. "At least I hope so. I can't quite make it out."

"We don't have time to argue," Harry said in an angry whisper. "Any moment now that harp might stop playing - and I don't know about you, but I can't sing a note."

"Fine, I'll do it," said Ron suddenly and before anyone would respond, he jumped into the hole. Hermione gasped and peered into it.

"It's fine!" Ron called out. "Landed on something soft."

Harry grinned. "That's something at least. Okay, Ron, move out of the way, we're coming down!" He then leaped down after Ron, landing on something soft and rubbery.

He moved aside to let Hermione and Neville jump down as well.

Hermione blinked as she moved her light around the room. "Oh, it was some sort of plant. Lucky it was here, then, wasn't it?"

Ron laughed. "Poor thing got squished."

Neville frowned then raised his wand. "Wait a minute, I think I recognize this plant! Look out!"

The plant had been twisting tentacles around them, and Harry realized to his horror that he couldn't get free.

"It's a Devil's Snare," Nevile continued. "I know how to deal with it. Guard your eyes! _Lumos Solem_!" A frighteningly bright light nearly blinded them, even through Harry's tightly shut eyes. But he could feel the tentacles retracting.

"You guys are free," said Neville. "We should move on."

"That was brilliant, Neville!" Hermione beamed. "Excellent Herbology work."

Neville blushed. "It's not that impressive."

Harry shook his head in disagreement. "Yeah, it was - but you're right, we have to keep moving."

The four ran down a narrow stone passageway for a short while before arriving in an enormous, very well lit chamber. Hundreds of small flying glittering things hovered about them, buzzing in every direction.

"How odd," Hermione mused. "Are they supposed to be attacking us?"

"There's a door across the room," Ron pointed out.

Harry nodded. "Then we should just make a break for it. Cover your heads!"

They ran across the room, and Harry expected to be attacked at any moment - but nothing happened.

"Huh," Ron grunted. "That was odd." He tried the door, which was locked. "Well, I guess it couldn't be that easy."

Hermione tried magically unlocking the door, but nothing seemed to work.

"Are those broomsticks over there?" Neville asked suddenly, pointing at a corner of the room.

"Yes. Well spotted, Neville," said Harry with a grin. "So, do you think we're supposed to use one of those birds somehow?" He squinted as he looked up, then gasped in realization. "Those aren't birds, guys - they're _keys_. And how much you want to bet one of them unlocks the door?"

"But there are millions of 'em!" Ron said with a frown.

"Don't exaggerate, Ron!" Hermione scolded. "Although there do seem to be at least several hundred of them."

Harry shrugged. "Well let me see if we can find it. Maybe one of them will seem obvious." He grabbed a broom and jumped into the air. "Come on, let's go!"

Ron grabbed a broomstick as well, but Hermione and Neville held back.

"Are you quite sure it's necessary?" Hermione asked nervously.

"You've gotten past those lessons already, Hermione," Ron said in annoyance. "You can do this."

"But I can't," Neville worried. "I'll fall again."

Harry hovered next to the ground next to Neville. "Listen, we don't need you to do anything fancy - just look around. I know you can do this, Neville. You'll be fine." He grabbed a broomstick and tossed it over to Neville, who caught it worriedly.

Neville frowned and sighed deeply. "Well... Well, all right, I'll try." He carefully rose into the air, his face in utter and complete concentration.

"So you joining us?" Ron asked, smirking at Hermione.

Hermione scowled. "Very well, yes."

Harry sped into the cloud of flying keys, looking carefully for anything out of the ordinary. But his practice at spotting Golden Snitches in the middle of giant Quidditch fields had given Harry the ability for seeing things out of the ordinary. And sure enough...

"I think I see it!" Harry said excitedly. "Silver one, broken wing. It's the only one with a broken wing, I bet cause it was caught once already." He frowned, considering how to catch the key as it kept darting about. "Okay, nobody move! Ron, you're the best flier after me, you come from above - Neville can move from below. Hermione, you drive it towards me, and I'll try to grab it."

Everyone nodded their assent and moved into position.

"Okay, on my mark... Ready... NOW!" The key jumped away from Hermione and Ron's hands, flying quickly to the side. But Harry barely matched its speed and almost jumped off the broom leaning forward, but managed to yank it out of the air.

"Got it!"

Hermione and Ron applauded, while Neville seemed to be taking that time to very carefully descend to the ground.

The others landed quickly and raced to the door. Harry rammed the wriggling key into the lock, and it fit perfectly. He turned the key and pulled the door open.

"We did it!" he said with a grin. "And nobody broke anything!"

"I never doubted us for a second," Ron scoffed.

Neville was extremely pale but managed to smile slightly.

The next chamber was very dimly lit, although the room suddenly flooded with light as the group stepped forward. The sight was actually quite familiar.

It was an enormous magical chess set, although the faceless pieces were twice as tall as any of them and carved out of shining black and white stone. They were fairly creepy to boot.

"Maybe we can go around them?" Neville ventured nervously.

They tried to move around the board, but the door was on the other side, directly behind the white king.

"Hmm, this is an odd riddle," Harry said in consideration.

"Oh, this is nonsense! Who creates a giant, sentient chess set?" Hermione cried out in frustration.

"Well, I would if I could," Ron admitted.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I guess we have to - play?" Neville asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. Ron, can you take the lead?"

Ron blinked then grinned widely. "Yeah, good idea, the rest of you are rubbish at chess anyway."

Hermione smacked him on the back of the head. "Don't be so boastful! Now tell us how to win!"

Ron arranged the four of them in strategic positions. "This won't be so bad; no magical chess set can beat the best human players, only beginners."

"Gee, thanks," Harry said dryly.

"No offense, Harriet," Ron said quickly. "But the point is that we should be able to win." He took a deep breath. "Let's do this."

They moved in accordance to Ron's shouted directions, and several tense minutes slowly passed. When their first piece was taken by the opposing white chessmen, the impact of the blow shook the board as one of their pawns crumpled to the ground.

"Don't worry about it," Ron said with a shaky voice. "Easy sacrifice to make - now we can take out their knights."

Hermione was staring at the crumpled form of the pawn. "Do you think they can somehow rebuild themselves? They were all pristine when we came in."

"Makes sense," Neville answered timidly. It seemed he was trying to distract himself. "I guess it was probably Professor McGonagall

"Please be quiet," Ron hissed. "I need to concentrate."

After another half dozen careful moves, Ron suddenly cursed. "Merlin's bloody nose! I didn't think of that!"

"What is it, Ron?" asked Hermione worriedly. "Did you make a mistake?"

Ron sighed. "I'm not used to playing with actual people that can actually get hurt. You and Harriet are both in danger because I was thinking in terms of pieces I could sacrifice. Let me look over the board for a second." He looked back and forth in deep thought.

"I thought you said human players could beat any chess set?" Hermione worried.

"Enough, Hermione," Ron yelled. "I _could _put them in checkmate easily if I just sacrifice one of you, but I don't want to do that, okay?"

Hermione nodded, looking very chagrined.

Ron sat down for a second and closed his eyes, putting his arms outstretched, as if he was trying to play the game on a smaller, more normal scale. After a few moments, he sighed and got back to his feet.

"Okay," he said slowly. "I have another way we can still win, but you won't like it."

"If you need to sacrifice one of us, I'm sure it can't be that bad," Harry said confidently, although he didn't quite feel that way. "How hard could a bunch of statues hit anyway?"

Ron shook his head. "No, but there is one way... if I sacrifice myself, and then you do exactly what I tell you to do, you can take the king."

"No!" Hermione yelped. "Surely there's another way?"

"Chess games can take ages," Ron pointed out. "Especially if I have to keep trying to keep one of you from getting taken. And correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't we in a bit of hurry here?"

Harry sighed and drooped a bit. "He's right, guys." He straightened and looked straight at Ron. "But if you get killed, I'll never forgive you."

Ron let out a kind of harsh laugh at that. "Fair enough. And at least I won't have to worry about my Mum getting mad then either."

"You can sacrifice me," Neville offered, looking scared but oddly intense.

"No, it's not that simple," Ron said sadly. "This is the fastest way other than letting Harriet and Hermione get hit instead. And I can't let that happen."

Neville sighed and nodded. "I understand."

"Okay, so listen up," Ron said briskly with a overly large grin. "Hermione, when the queen takes me, you move into the position she used to be in. Then no matter what they do, Harriet, you move to the right, diagonally, five space. That will be enough to get them into checkmate. We good?"

The others nodded and Ron moved into his target place. The white queen rushed over, stone fists raised high, as they all tensed and froze in place.

"Cover your face!" Harry suddenly shouted out instinctively.

Ron managed to hold up his hands just before the white queen knocked him to the ground. He didn't move.

Hermione shrieked.

"Don't move, Hermione!" Harry yelled. "Otherwise, his sacrifice will be for nothing. Neville, you're closest - does he look okay?"

Neville leaned a bit and peered over at Ron's slumped form. "I think... I think he's breathing. He's moving slightly. Ron, can you hear me?"

Ron didn't answer.

"Well, at least he's alive," said Harry with relief. "Now let's follow his instructions. Hermione, you remember what to do?"

Hermione's face had paled dramatically, but she nodded. She moved to flank the king and they waited for the countering move. The white queen leaped forward and smashed one of their rooks to the ground, getting very close to the black king.

Harry quickly moved to the correct position, and thankfully it worked - the white king took his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. The statues all moved out of the way of the exit.

"Kind of a sore loser," muttered Neville and ran over to check on Ron. "He's definitely breathing, but he's out cold. Bruised his arms pretty bad too."

Harry nodded. "Okay, then I suppose we should move on. Come on, we still have... how many left, do you reckon?"

"Well, this one was McGonagall's," said Neville. "And obviously the Devil's Snare was Sprout's."

"I suppose the charmed keys ought to be from Flitwick," Hermione conjectured. "And we already know Fluffy is Hagrid's pet. So all that's left is Snape and Quirrell."

Harry scowled. "Figures it's the ones we were worried about."

As they continued down the corridor, opening another door, a disgusting but oddly familiar smell filled their nostrils. Harry had a feeling he knew what was ahead, and sure enough, just ahead an enormous troll was on the ground, completely unconscious and drooling grossly.

Neville took a step back involuntarily.

Harry looked at Hermione with a grin. "Brings back great memories, doesn't it? Giant smelly troll, out cold?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be daft. Just be glad we don't have to deal with it. Neville, come on it's not awake, you're safe!"

"You guys fought a troll like this?" Neville whispered haltingly.

"This one is bigger," said Harry, already moving past it. "But you shouldn't just stick around here - it might wake up."

That got Neville moving quickly to catch up.

They all stepped through to the next room, and as Neville walked over the threshold, an angry purple fire immediately sprang up behind them in the doorway. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward.

"Look at this!" Hermione said excitedly, pointing to a table with seven differently shaped bottles. "Potions! And a note!" She unfurled it and began to read it carefully.

"It must be Snape's room," Harry realized.

Neville frowned and looked back behind them. "But doesn't that mean that the troll is Quirrell's? How did he get it in here?"

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Well spotted, Neville. And I wouldn't be surprised if that troll we fought last year was connected in some way. Why would Quirrell be able to bring a troll in for protection but be so scared when one showed up on Halloween?"

"Maybe he brought both in but one escaped?" Neville guessed. "Not saying that's what happened, but it's possible he didn't intend for it to escape."

"I suppose," Harry allowed. "Hermione, what's on that note anyway? You seem highly distracted."

"It's a kind of riddle," said Hermione absently, looking back and forth between the bottles and the note. "It basically says that one potion will let you go forward and another will take you back. And three are actually poison, but the riddle uses logic to tell you which is which. I think I've almost got it."

She frowned and then, after a pause, nodded confidently. "Okay, I think I have it," she said. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire — toward the Stone. And that rounded bottle at the end takes us back."

"Aren't they kind of small?" Neville asked nervously.

Harry peered at the tiny bottles. "They don't look like they could contain more than a bit left. Whoever came through either drank some or knew how to disable the trap. Hermione, what do you think? Is there enough for more than one of us? Enough for even one?"

"Oh no!" Hermione gasped. "You're right, Harriet! Based on the size, there's only enough for one - for each bottle. That means only one person can go forward and one person can go back."

"Well," Harry said very slowly. "I suppose I should go forward."

"No!" Hermione insisted. "That's... I mean..." She trailed off.

Neville looked grim. "I think I can make it partly easier on you girls. I've got less of a chance of doing anything useful against You-Know-Who or Quirrell, or Snape even, or whoever. But I can go check on Ron at least... and maybe find a way back up the trapdoor."

"You could use those brooms in the key room," Harry said with a forced grin. "I know you don't like flying - but I know you can do it, Neville. As long as Fluffy is still asleep. And maybe you can check on Parvati and Lavender's search for anyone to help."

"Okay, that settles it then," Neville said firmly. "Hermione, it's the rounded one on the end, isn't it?"

She nodded silently.

"Okay, good luck you two. I know that either one of you could easily win - not a doubt in my mind." With that, Neville grabbed the indicated bottle and uncorked it.

Hermione looked about to cry and she grabbed Neville in a hug. "Please be careful yourself," she said. "Thank you for being so brave."

Neville looked surprised but patted Hermione on the back. "Thank you, but I need to go check on Ron. Good luck." He drank the bottle and then shivered. "Cold." Neville turned back and smiled. "See you on the other side." He walked through the fire and came out the other side completely unscathed. He turned back once to wave, then ran in the direction of the chess room.

Hermione looked back at Harry, with a horrid worried expression on her face. "Harriet, I know Neville has the greatest confidence in us... but we can't beat You-Know-Who or a Professor!"

"I beat her once before," Harry said, pointing at his scar. "And after that, a Professor can't be that bad, can it? I'll be fine. And if someone else manages to come back, you can toss a bottle of poison at them."

Hermione giggled shrilly then stopped, and suddenly burst into tears. "Harriet... you don't have to do this!"

"You know I do, Hermione," said Harry firmly.

Hermione grabbed Harry and embraced him tightly. She then stood back, tears running down her face.

"If anything happened to you," she said. "I couldn't bear it. You're the greatest person I know. And the first person to ever really be my friend."

Harry sighed, feeling highly embarrassed. "Hermione, I don't think it's all that dramatic. And to be honest - I didn't have any friends before Hogwarts either."

"That can't be true," Hermione insisted.

"The Dursleys made it kind of hard," Harry said with a rueful chuckle.

"Oh," Hermione realized. "I had forgotten about your relatives." Her face crumbled. "You see? It's even worse! You are so strong and brilliant, even with your difficult upbringing. And everyone loves you."

"Hermione, stop!" Harry protested. "I care about you too - all of my friends. And you're really the smartest one in the group - and I'm counting Padma in that too. Sometimes I think she has no common sense at all."

Hermione sighed very heavily. "Harriet, I only wish that someday I can be a witch like you. If everything people say about your mother is true, I imagine you must take after her more than a little." She looked up with a watery smile. "That's a compliment, by the way, I know you don't like being complimented for girlish things."

"I think I can handle this one exception," Harry said, feeling a bit choked in his throat. "But I need to get moving... Which bottle is it again?"

Hermione handed the correct bottle to him.

"Good luck, Harriet." Hermione bit her lip then seemed to gather some sort of inner strength together. "I believe in you."

Harry blinked back a bit of sudden moisture in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said simply, and drank the potion. Instantly a wave of ice flooded his body, just like Neville had said. He nodded once to Hermione, and then stepped through the fire into the final chamber.

Someone he knew was standing there before him - Professor Quirrell. Standing before the Mirror of Erised - which Dumbledore must have put there after Harry's late night adventures to see it.

"So it _is_ you!" Harry said, pulling out his wand - although he wasn't sure quite what he'd be able to do against the older man.

Quirrell turned around and had a disturbing smile on his face. "I wondered if I'd see you here, Miss Potter. You suspected me, did you?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, either you or Snape. We had some disagreements in the group, but personally I never thought Snape was quite evil enough to steal the Stone."

Quirrell's eyes narrowed. "Evil? Severus? I think you misunderstand the term and our dear Potions Professor. He has done some wonderfully evil things in his life, I assure you." He grinned again creepily. "Some horrible things to your parents, in point of fact. Would you like for me to explain?"

"No!" Harry snorted. "And why aren't you stuttering anymore? Afraid you'll actually appear competent for once?"

"Watch your mouth, Potter!" Quirrell spat. "That stutter worked quite well to keep people from suspecting p-poor, h-helpless Qu-Quirrell."

"Not really," Harry pointed out. "We suspected you. And I get the feeling Snape did too, unless he was working with you."

"No, he was not," Quirrell said angrily. "The shortsighted fool did not understand what was going on in the slightest. He's practically Dumbledore's footstool these days, anyway - I ought not to have bothered."

"Watch _your_ mouth," Harry replied angrily. "Dumbledore is a million times the wizard you or Volotredi is! And speaking of which, where is the old bag anyway? How are you connected?"

Quirrell laughed. "Ah, the stupidity and naivete of the young. The dark mistress has been with me all along - well, ever since the bank. I failed her then, so she decided to take a more, _personal _role supervising me." He then shuddered and looked around in sudden fright. "Never mind all that. _Expelliarmus_!"

Instantly Harry's wand leaped out of his hand.

"Hey!"

"I'm not about to let you near me with a wand, Potter," scoffed Quirrell. "Now get over to the wall... slowly! Stay precisely where I can see you." After Harry had moved, the Professor turned back to the Mirror and cursed under his breath. This mirror is the key to finding the Stone - trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this… but he's in London… I'll be far away by the time he gets back…"

"Oh, is _that_ where he is?" Harry asked, feeling bizarrely confident and rude. "Why were all the Professors in a secret meeting?"

"Distractions, naturally," Quirrell said absently. "For some reason, Dumbledore seemed to think the Stone was in more danger than before. He said that if he was called away from Hogwarts, that the Professors should immediately check on the Stone's protections. Of course, we couldn't have that, so I staged another troll break-in to keep the Professors' attention."

Quirrell looked at his reflection and frowned. "Hmm, how odd. I see the Stone… I'm presenting it to my mistress… but where is it?"

"Kind of easy to figure out," Harry said boastfully, although he had no idea himself. "But you're such a rubbish teacher, it's no shock you're rubbish at this too."

Quirrell gritted his teeth in fury, and the clutched his head. "I am sorry, my mistress. What should I do? I need your help, dark glorious one."

A horrible voice answered, almost seeming to come from Quirrell himself. Harry felt quite confused by this - was Quirrell somehow both Volotredi and himself?

"Use Potter…"

Quirrell rounded on Harry.

"Yes — Potter — come here. Slowly, mind you."

Harry slowly walked over, dragging out as much time as possible.

"Stop lolly-gagging about!" Quirrell snarled and yanked his wand backwards, causing Harry to stumble forwards toward the mirror. "Now then, get up and look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Harry was completely unsure of what he would see this time.

He saw his reflection as before, a boy thankfully, but then, a moment later, his girl reflection appeared from nowhere and smiled at him. She held up a blood-red stone and winked. She then dropped in the male Harry's pocket, who looked as surprised as Harry himself did. And crazily, but unmistakeably, Harry felt something heavy drop into his real pocket. Somehow — incredibly —he'd gotten the Stone.

Well, that wasn't good.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Harry wasn't about to tell the truth, but perhaps a mix of honesty and lies would suffice. He plastered a happy smile on his face.

"It's marvelous!" he enthused. "I'm there with Dumbledore and my parents and all my friends, and I'm holding the House Cup high! We've won! And oh, look, there in the corner is you, getting your bollocks kicked by a team of Muggles." He wiped a fake tear from his eye. "I don't know what this Mirror is, but I think I'd like to move it to my room."

Quirrell snarled and waved his hand, forcing Harry back against the wall hard.

But it seemed that not everyone had been fooled by Harry's words.

"Potter lies..."

"Potter, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"

The high voice spoke again.

"Let me speak to Potter… face-to-face…"

"My wondrous and horrible Mistress, you are not strong enough!"

"'I have strength enough… for this…'"

Could this be Volotredi herself? Harry couldn't help but feel a horrible curiosity to face the murderer of his parents.

Quirrell slowly reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.

It was the worst thing Harry had ever seen. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, a hideous, ugly, misshapen thing, chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake. And then the face looked incredibly confused.

"Who is this?" it asked. "Who are you?"

"It's Harriet Potter, mistress," Quirrell said tonelessly in a strange, gargling voice.

Harry smirked despite himself. "Yeah, Harry Potter. You killed my parents, in case you've forgotten."

The face looked back at Harry with an odd expression. "How odd. I do not understand what it going on here - Potter, did you see the Stone in the Mirror? Answer truthfully, or be killed!"

"No Stone," said Harry, not about to tell the truth. "Although I did see a Tome. The Tome of Women's Magic. Have you heard of it? Apparently my mum used it to make sure you'd die attacking me."

"A Tome..." the shade said slowly. "Then you must give it to me at once! Give me the Tome and the Stone as well! I know you have it! I must know the secrets of this Tome at once!"

"I'm not giving you anything, you horrid old woman," Harry spat on the ground. "But if you want the Tome, it's actually in the Mirror right now."

The face turned to the Mirror, and Harry took the chance to run for his wand.

But Quirrell had spotted him - Harry had forgotten he was on the back of Volotredi's face.

"Seize him, you bumbling fool!" the Dark Lady seethed.

Quirrell leaped forward and grabbed Harry's wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him.

The pain in his head lessened — he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers — they were blistering before his eyes.

"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Volotredi again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck —

And then immediately removed them - Quirrell looked down at his palms, which had blistered and reddened.

That is when Harry got a very crazy idea. Harry grabbed Quirrell's wrist and tried to ignore the sudden pain. As Quirrell shrieked and shuddered, Harry reached up and smacked his other hand against Quirrell's face. This time the pain was horrible, shooting through every pore in his body. Harry held on, although he no longer was in a right mind to pay attention - he held on with pure will alone.

And then everything sped into blackness.

* * *

It was a very odd dream, fitful and bizarre. A little man shouting so vehemently his face had turned bright red, but he made no noise at all. Ron looking very confused sitting on a giant book, a book that turned into the library. Suddenly Padma and Hermione began throwing apples at each other. And then the scene turned to white.

Harry's vision swam and then cleared as he opened his eyes. The Headmaster was sitting before him on a chair - and Harry was on a bed in the Hospital wing.

"Good to see you are finally awake, Not-Miss Potter," Dumbledore said with a warm smile. "You have been laid up for two days now, but Madame Pomfrey believes you are mostly recovered."

Harry sat up and looked around room. On a table nearby was an enormous mound of candy and small treats. "Why is there so much candy in here?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "A few tokens from your many curious admirers around the school. Although none of them knows what actually happened, that you and Professor Quirrell were in some sort of struggle is widely known."

"Is Quirrell... is he, you know?"

Dumbledore nodded grimly. "Yes, he did not survive your encounter. Lady Volotredi abandoned him, and Quirrell perished as the dark spirit left him. But do not think any worse of yourself - there was very little humanity left in Quirinus. If anything, your actions were a mercy for the poor man."

Harry sighed. "And the Stone? Is it safe?"

"Yes, the Stone is safe," Dumbledore replied. "Although my old friend, Nicolas Flamel, to whom it belongs, has yet to decide what to do next. He is not sure whether or not destroy it or try to protect it again. After all, the threat of Volotredi is still quite real."

"Destroy it?" Harry asked in surprise. "But then wouldn't he die?"

"Ah, I see you are familiar with Flamel's fascinating background," said Dumbledore with a pleased look. "Well, I understand your confusion - but Nicolas is a very old man, and he is not sure the effort of protecting the stone is worth living longer. It may seem odd to us, but he has seem more life than most can imagine."

"So then... about Volo... I mean You-Know-Who, is she going to come back again?"

"Call her Volotredi, Not-Harriet," Dumbledore admonished. "Do not allow fear to change how you live. In fact, I would argue it helps you realize that she is just a person, like any of us, albeit a twisted and lonely one."

"Okay, that makes sense," Harry allowed. "Although it seems like most people don't like hearing her name."

"Very true, Not-Harriet," said Dumbledore. "Although much of that was learned behavior over time. Some people believed that merely saying the name could cause Volotredi to suddenly know about it. Of course, such horrible magic is possible, but nothing of the sort was ever actually associated with the name, Volotredi. And if people do not like it... well, you have more than earned the right to use whatever name you wish."

Harry smirked. "Even if I were to use something like, I dunno, Polo Ready?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "There's no need to be quite _that _silly, my dear. Although I certainly understand the impulse. Now, there are a few things we need to go over, but before we do, have any remaining questions?"

Harry pondered for a moment. "Sir, do you promise to be honest with me?"

Dumbledore nodded. "To the best of my knowledge, and if there is a question I cannot answer, I will, at the very least, explain why."

"This is probably a pretty big question," said Harry. "But do you know why Volotredi couldn't kill me when she had been able to kill my parents?"

"Alas," Dumbledore sighed. "That particular mystery has plagued me for ten years. No one is truly sure why you survived, although I believe your mother's sacrifice had something to do with it. Exactly how, though, unfortunately I believe only she knew."

"So wait a moment," Harry realized. "Are you saying that there actually might really be secret research my mum did? I was just making all that up! Do you think it's related to my girl curse as well?"

"A good question," Dumbledore replied with a nod. "I would not be surprised if it was, and I shall consider that with my continued research into your female issue. I don't suppose Volotredi happened to make any mention of the curse?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so - or if she did, I didn't pick up on it. But here's something maybe you _can_ answer - why did it hurt us both when our skin touched?"

"This is more a theory than a certainty," began the Headmaster. "But due to the efficacy of your protection on Privet Drive, I believe it to be justified. Love - your mother's love for you - was somehow deeply intertwined with the way you defeated Volotredi the first time. If there is one thing she cannot understand, that sad old woman, it is love. Quirrell, tied to Volotredi as he was, could not touch you without terrible agony."

"Okay, I suppose that makes sense," said Harry. "Although I thought I remembered shaking his hand back when I first went to Diagon Alley."

Dumbledore frowned for a moment than brightened. "Ah, was he hearing his turban at the time?"

Harry thought back to those many months ago and gasped in memory. "Why, no, you're right! I guess Volotredi hadn't possessed him yet!"

Dumbledore nodded with a pleased smile. "Very astute, Not-Harriet. That is my opinion of the matter as well. Now, I had mentioned Privet Drive - and unfortunately that is something we must resolve before you leave Hogwarts. And now is as good a time as any, I believe."

"Professor McGonagall said you couldn't manage to get me away from Privet Drive. Why not?"

"A sticky issue, I must admit," Dumbledore admitted. "You see, 'Harriet Potter', if you will forgive the reference, is a very well known figure. Any official changes to your living arrangements would necessitate informing the Ministry - and I'm afraid that there are many _undesirables_ who would happily take advantage. The Dursleys are highly unpleasant, I admit, but as your closest family, the Ministry has no particular need to interfere. If word got out that they had been abusive in any matter at all, even if it was not physical, there are those who would use the opportunity to propagate terrible laws against Muggles and the Muggle-born."

"Oh," said Harry softly. "I think I understand. If people heard that 'Harriet Potter' had been raised badly by Muggles, they would think all Muggles were bad. And that's not fair."

"No, it is not," agreed Dumbledore. "But still, that does not mean you must still suffer at their misbegotten hands this summer. Your magical skills have gotten to a fairly decent state, of course, and I am sure you could defend yourself against most Muggles - but against evil wizards? You still need protection against them."

"But aren't there other students that also need protection?" Harry asked plaintively. "You're the Headmaster of the entire school, after all."

Dumbledore sighed. "Very true. And I only tell this because I know you do not like to hear it - but the truth is that you are more important than the other students."

"I don't like to hear that at all," Harry grumbled. "But... why? Why am I more important?"

The Headmaster looked pained. "This is an issue I truly do not wish to explain. Not because you do not deserve to know, but because I do not wish to ruin your remaining childhood years."

Harry's eyes widened. "Is it really that bad?"

"I believe so," said Dumbledore. "But perhaps I can proceed it with a partial explanation. As someone who survived Volotredi and defeated her more than once, you are a symbol of hope for all that could be victims, and a symbol of fear for those who would be the attackers - that is, Volotredi and her followers. As such, every day you live is a day where their own lives are more meaningless, as they have their pledged support to a cause that you had defeated already."

"Dang it," Harry muttered. "Everything you say makes complete sense. But I really don't want to go back to the Dursleys - surely there's something we can do?"

"I did have a few thoughts," said Dumbledore with a sly grin. "The protection is renewed more the longer you stay there, up until the point of your birthday, where it no longer becomes any additionally effective. So the longer you stay, the safer you will be, and the safer your relatives will be the coming year."

"Well," Harry said begrudgingly. "I suppose that technically I don't want them to _die_ - I'd prefer to just pretend they no longer exist. I guess I can manage until then - and then maybe I can go someplace else the rest of the holiday?"

"Precisely," said Dumbledore. "And now that I think of it, perhaps I or someone else could go with you to explain matters a bit. We could arrange that you write a letter every week, and if you do not send one, we shall assume the worst. I would hope that the Dursleys would treat you better after that."

"I like that idea," Harry admitted, relishing the thought of someone intimidating the Dursleys for a change, like Hagrid had done once before. "But what if they try to force me to lie in the letter?"

"I can give you special paper and ink to use," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "It will reveal whether or not you are truthful in your letter - but perhaps we shall not inform the Dursleys of that particular point."

Harry chuckled. "I have to say, I like it. And then we can go... well, where _can_ I go exactly?"

Dumbledore rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I would prefer you to stay with a wizarding family, and a trustworthy one at that, so your friend Miss Granger would not be a viable choice. If enough of the staff have returned to Hogwarts by that point, you could also stay here, otherwise I would worry about safety. I could subtly broach the subject with your magical friends' parents about it, although I can safely say I doubt Madame Longbottom would approve."

"I guess you can just let me know later then," Harry replied. "Well, as soon as you can, of course. It ought to be fun to stay at one of my friends' homes this summer."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I should hope so. Although a sudden question does occur to me - are you uncomfortable living with girls, as you are not one from your own perspective?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "To be honest, I've kind of gotten used to it by now. At first, it felt weird, so I kept changing in the washroom and tried to avoid it when they were changing themselves. But although I keep doing it by habit now, I've seen them and they've seen me enough times that I don't really think about it anymore. I sort of think it'd be better off if I _didn't_ stay with boys, as they'd see me as a girl. I'd rather not have to deal with that."

"I see," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "Well, if anything changes in that regard, please inform me as soon as possible and we will address it at the time." The Headmaster stood up. "And now, I believe your friends are waiting impatiently to see you, if there is nothing else? Keep in mind that I will be happy to answer non-sensitive questions using owl mail this summer."

"There is one thing I've been wondering," Harry realized. "Although I'm not sure if you know the answer. Why did Professor Snape and my mum stop being friends?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately, I can only answer this question partially, as I had previously promised Severus never to reveal certain details of his life. What I can say is that your mother and Professor Snape were very close friends for many years, but they grew further apart, mostly due to Severus's dealings with the darker elements. They finally had a falling out when he called her a terrible name, which I will only repeat now so you know never to use it: _mudblood_. It is considered a very offensive term for muggle-born people. Their friendship never recovered after that point."

"Oh," said Harry. "Then why does he try to be nice to me? I mean, nice for him."

"I daresay he sees your mother in you, considering that he views you as a girl," Dumbledore answered. "And he wishes to make amends for his selfish behavior so many years ago. In my mind, that is a highly laudable goal and unless he acts in some manner inappropriately, please do your best to encourage such behavior."

"I will," agreed Harry. "And thanks again."

Dumbledore nodded with a smile and left the room with a glance at a frowning Madame Pomfrey.

After barely a few seconds had past, all of Harry's friends had stumbled into the room - even Padma, whom Harry wasn't sure would even be interested. Harry almost wondered if Hagrid was somehow hiding in the back - although the large man would have nothing to hide behind.

"Don't stress Miss Potter," Madame Pomfrey instructed them sternly. "She still needs her rest."

"Oh, come on, I'm fine," Harry said with a grin. "See? Look at me?"

Madame Pomfrey frowned but then nodded very, very slightly. "Very well, five minutes, and that's it." She then left the room to give them privacy.

"So?" Ron asked, clearly absurdly curious.

Harry smirked. "So what?"

"Don't be annoying," Hermione chided. "What happened after you went through the fire? I mean, I assume Quirrell was there, of course, considering what happened to him, but then what?"

"It was Quirrell," confirmed Harry. "But he was there with someone else - our old friend Lady Volotredi."

The others winced.

"Oh, stop that," Harry said in an annoyed voice. "It's just a name, after all. Dumbledore even said so."

"Well, still," said Parvati, biting her lip. "Stop leaving all of us in suspense and tell us what happened!"

"Well, okay," Harry smiled. "But promise to keep it a secret, okay? Like the Mystery?"

They all nodded.

"All right, then," said Harry, leaning back in his bed. "So there I was, in a room with Professor Quirrell and a mysterious Mirror..."

* * *

_Next time..._

_Harry and the Headmaster take a short trip, and the end of Book One._

"_It's you!" Petunia shrieked._

"_A pleasure to see you too, Mrs. Dursley," replied Dumbledore with a short bow._


	8. 8: Happily Back to Privet Drive

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**Quick note: A few more obvious divergences this time.**

**Many thanks to my beta, who rarely misses horrible mistakes that doom this story to the recycle bin of history.**

**CHAPTER EIGHT: HAPPILY BACK TO PRIVET DRIVE**

It didn't take long for Harry to tell a short, slightly edited, version of his encounter with Quirrell and Volotredi. The reactions were fairly predictable.

"Oh," gasped Lavender. "It's about the bravest thing I've ever heard."

Neville nodded in agreement.

"Do you suppose the Mirror was related to the Cult of Eris, the goddess of Discord?" Padma asked in a kind of rhetorical manner.

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe things got crazier after I got hit by a _giant chess piece_."

"Is that so?" Hermione asked with a smirk. "I'd have thought that'd be your ideal way to die. Perish with glory, conquering an evil chess set."

Ron looked very intrigued by the idea. "I can't say I disagree all that much," he said.

"I want to know what happened to the rest of you," Harry cut in, seeing that Padma seemed like she was about to ask another question about the Mirror. "I don't know what happened to Neville or Hermione, or even to Parvati and Lavender - did you manage to find anyone?"

Parvati shook her head. "No, but when I went back to the third floor door, the Headmaster actually did find me to confirm that you guys had gone to protect the Stone from whoever. He hurried off pretty fast after that."

"He actually came past when I was checking on Ron, trying to figure out how to get both of us onto a broom," said Neville. "To be honest, I didn't even know if I could manage just flying myself up."

"And I wasn't helping matters, being knocked out and all," Ron grinned. "Heroically knocked out by giant chess pieces, that is."

"I think Neville was braver trying to fly with you," Parvati replied. "No offense, Neville, but Ron's good at chess and you aren't so good at flying."

"That's a good point," conceded Ron.

"Anyway," Hermione interrupted with a cross expression. "Continuing on with _the story_, the Professor showed up, looking quite worried, if I do say so myself. And then he went after you, and brought you back only a minute or so later. I wasn't sure if you were dead or just unconscious, but Professor Dumbledore said you would probably be fine, just needed to go to the Hospital wing."

"There's something I don't understand," mentioned Padma.

"I don't know if the Mirror is connected to anything mythological, Padma," Harry said, slightly annoyed.

"Not that," she dismissed. "I do not understand why love can damage a incorporeal spirit."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I hate to say it, but the technical details are probably too complicated to grasp at our age. I think it's just fascinating that Harriet's mother was apparently such an accomplished witch at a fairly young age. It's very inspirational."

"On to more important matters," decided Ron. "Mainly Quidditch. The game was postponed for two days because you were in the infirmary, but it was only postponed to _today_. Will you be able to play?"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded. "There are more important matters than Quidditch!"

"Yes, there are," said Parvati. "But now that Harriet's fine, she can beat the Ravenclaws senseless. Can't you?"

Harry blinked. "Well, yes. Yes, I feel fine now." Then he grinned widely. "The only issue is somehow convincing Madam Pomfrey I can handle it."

"It's not a big deal if you can't, Harriet," Neville assured. "We won't like you any less."

Parvati scowled. "That may be true, but you can't speak for the older Gryffindors. And besides, wouldn't you rather win the Quidditch Cup?"

"I would," agreed Harry. "And honestly, I think I'll feel even more like myself once I get on the broom."

"Um, Padma," Lavender said slowly. "You're not offended that we want Ravenclaw to lose, are you?"

"Why would I be offended?" Padma asked in surprise. "I would rather they lose."

This rather shocking remark was met with an impressive few seconds of silence.

"That's... that's mad!" Ron blurted out.

"You don't want to support your own house team?" asked Harry.

Padma shrugged. "Not really. Of the students I have been exposed to in the school, I think that you first year Gryffindors are far more useful than the ones in my house. They are shockingly shortsighted and are terribly boring in any intellectual debates."

Hermione rolled her eyes in mild consternation at what Padma had said. "I don't know if that was intended as a compliment or not, but I'll take it as one." Still she was more surprised by Padma's evaluation of her own house than anything else. "How odd," she mused. "This changes much of my perception of Ravenclaw."

Madam Pomfrey came back into the room, looking fairly displeased. "Miss Potter, the Headmaster has informed me that you are to be released, unless you would rather stay and rest longer. Are you quite sure you are up to leaving?"

"Yes she is!" Ron piped up excitedly, but quickly retreated in the face of Pomfrey's harsh glare.

"I'm fine, ma'am," Harry replied about as politely as he could. He didn't want to take any changes with Quidditch, after all. "Thank you for your concern, but I do feel completely recovered."

Madam Pomfrey frowned, but she nodded. "Very well. And you have one additional visitor before you leave."

"Who could it be?" Harry wondered, and his friends didn't seem to know either.

"It better not be Snape," Ron scowled.

A moment later, the large form of Hagrid squeezed through the door. He looked around in slight surprise.

"Oh, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see yer friends here." Hagrid then sniffed and almost started to cry. "Yeh kids are great, yeh've been good friends ter Harriet all year. And helpin' me out with Norbert an' talkin' about magical creatures an' all. It's all my ruddy fault yeh were in danger in the first place - I told that evil git how ter get past Fluffy."

"Calm down, Hagrid," said Parvati soothingly. "You didn't intend any harm, I'm sure. And you were a great friend to us all this year too. I'm sure my sister agrees."

Padma had a wide, crooked smile on her face. "Yes, that is quite accurate. You are very knowledgeable when it comes to magical creatures."

Hagrid chuckled softly. "That's kind of yeh to say. It's good ter see kids interested in creatures, it is. Oh!" Hagrid's eyes widened and he pulled out a fancy-looking book. "Almost forgot. I got a present for yeh."

Harry accepted the gift with a smile, and when he opened it, his jaw dropped.

It was a magical photo album, filled with photographs of his mother and father, happily waving from every page.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos… knew yeh didn' have any… d'yeh like it?"

Harry didn't quite know what to say.

"That is a brilliant gift, Hagrid," Hermione said graciously. "You can see how much Harriet likes it."

"But don't get too emotional," Ron interjected. "You still have a Quidditch game to win."

Harry laughed. "Thanks for keeping your priorities in order."

* * *

Oliver Wood was so happy to see Harry he actually burst into tears.

"I was afraid you'd be laid up past when you could be of any use," the captain opined.

The older girls scowled at him.

"That's quite a thing to say, Oliver," Angelina said angrily.

"Now, now, keep that fury for the field," Fred put in a sage tone.

"Gryffindor Furies," George mused. "I must say, I like it quite a bit."

"Has a ring to it, doesn't it?" Fred agreed. "The beautiful and mighty wings of the Furies."

Angelina looked like she was trying not be pleased with the comment, although Alicia and Katie weren't bothering to hide their enjoyment of the idea.

"I think it's a wonderful nickname," Katie said with a smile. "And we shall steal it immediately as our own idea."

"Maybe we should just get out there and win?" Harry asked in amusement.

"Well said, Harriet!" Oliver Wood pumped his fist. "Glad to see that your head is still in the right place, unlike these jokers. I think that all this exposure to the Twins has made the girls lose perspective."

Fred shook his head in mock sadness. "Exposure to the Twins indeed. I dread the day they cure Weasley-itis."

George wiped away a nonexistent tear. "There'd be no more joy in all the world."

When Harry flew up in the air, a roar spread over the crowd. Harry had the oddest feeling that they were cheering for him. Which as it turned out, they were.

"There she is, folks," the voice of Lee Jordan echoed over the field. "The girl was in the Hospital Wing this very morning, and now she's flying like nothing's wrong. I don't care what anyone says, Gryffindor girls are the best."

"Jordan!" McGonagall snapped, albeit not that harshly. "Keep your entirely accurate but irrelevant comments out of the game."

As the air sped past Harry's face, he felt a sense of exhilaration spread over him and felt full of energy. Without a doubt, win or lose, this had been the very best year of his life.

But they still won, of course.

* * *

Harry felt like he was floating on a sea of pure joy as he walked with his friends to the end of year banquet. With the win over Ravenclaw, they were a shoe-in for House Cup, or at least a very close tie with Slytherin. Oliver Wood could not be seen without a permanent grin firmly attached to his face.

"I'll never forget this," he had assured Harry. "I know we have two years left - but I have a feeling we'll win them both. Just try not to get in the Hospital much if you can help it, all right?"

Harry promised to do his best, although privately he wasn't sure if he'd be able to hold to it, given the craziness inherent at Hogwarts.

"Harriet, I must say," Ron said in a bit of a fake, pompous tone as they sat down at the banquet table. "This year has been quite astounding. I wonder what you have planned for the next one?"

"Perhaps she'll defeat You-Know-Who two times in one year to break her record?" offered Lavender with a grin.

"Or maybe she'll ride a dragon while doing her homework on its back?" Hermione said with a small smirk.

"Enough," Harry groaned, and then smiled a bit sinisterly. "Besides, I was planning all those things for third year."

They all laughed at that.

Dumbledore stood up in his seat and the Hall quieted very quickly.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were, you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts."

He paused to wait for the inevitable giggling to subside. "Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two points; in third, Ravenclaw, with three hundred and sixty-six; Slytherin has four hundred and seventy-two, and this year's winner, Gryffindor, has a grand total of four hundred and eighty-three."

The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers at the narrow victory. McGonagall and Snape were shaking hands, although Snape looked almost bored with it all, like he'd rather be done with the whole business of Houses and Cups altogether.

"Which means," Dumbledore continued when the applause died down slightly. "We will need to have our usual decorations for victory." He waved his wand, and within an instant, the entire hall was decked out in the Gryffindor colors of red and gold, and a huge banner appeared over the High Table, proudly displaying showing the Gryffindor lion.

The next few days passed quickly, and Harry found himself being surprised by getting exam results. With all the excitement of going after the Stone and winning the House Cup, he had completely forgotten having taken them just the previous week.

"I can't believe it," Hermione said in shock.

"That you have the best grades in the year?" Ron asked in amusement. "You shouldn't be surprised, although I'm not shocked you are."

"Um," Hermione looked a bit worried. "Padma, you aren't mad I beat you, are you?"

"No," said Padma. "I still learned a great deal. And you beat the other Ravenclaws too, which I consider to be a good thing."

Ron laughed. "Sounds reasonable to me."

Parvati rolled her eyes. "So, Harriet, Professor Dumbledore said you wouldn't have to stay at your Muggle relatives all summer long, right?"

Harry nodded. "Right. Hopefully I can stay by one of you lot, if that's okay."

Parvati smiled brilliantly. "I would be very happy for you to stay with us, if you wanted." She glanced at her sister. "And I'm sure Padma wouldn't mind one way or another, right?"

"No," Padma answered. "Why would I care where Potter stays for the holidays?"

"You should all visit this summer," said Ron. "It'll be great to hang out, and to be honest, my Mum really wants to cook for everyone."

"Those brownies _were _pretty good," Harry mused. "Okay, I'm sold."

"Are your relatives going to be all right to you?" Hermione asked in a worried tone.

"Yeah, it should be fine," Harry replied. "Dumbledore and I are supposed to head over there soon. Oh, speaking of which, here he comes now."

The Headmaster worked over to the group with a kind smile on his face.

"Hello, everyone. I trust you are all reasonably satisfied with your exam results?"

"Yes, sir," said Parvati with a polite nod.

"I didn't fail," Ron shrugged. "So that's a win for me."

"Ron, don't be rude!" Hermione hissed. "We are all more than satisfied, Professor."

Lavender and Neville seemed a bit too intimidated to say anything at all.

"Are you fully packed and prepared to leave?" Dumbledore inquired.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, all ready to go when you are."

"I shall instruct the house-elves to gather together your belongings so we can bring them along, and you can say your farewells in the meantime." Dumbledore nodded politely to the group and walked off.

"You're leaving already?" Hermione asked a bit sadly. "But the train doesn't leave for two days!"

"Dumbledore has a lot to do, and he thought it best if we got back a bit early to put the Dursleys off guard," Harry explained. "But don't any of you worry - I'll be giving Hedwig plenty of exercise this summer!"

"You better!" Lavender said, tearing up, and grabbed Harry in a hug. "Try to have a good summer, will you?"

Ron shook his head and sighed. "Don't let the Muggles get you down, Harriet."

"I won't," Harry promised, now also embracing a crying Parvati. "Come on, Parvati, I'll be seeing you soon enough."

"I know," she sniffed, and wiped her nose on a handkerchief. "But I'll miss having someone normal around to talk to."

Dumbledore then returned, floating Harry's things behind him. "Shall we, my dear?"

Harry waved to his friends. "Have a great holiday, guys. Keep an eye out for Hedwig, eh?"

As Dumbledore and Harry walked away from the group, Harry thought he heard Hermione ask "Say, what are house-elves?"

* * *

"Before we arrive, Not-Harriet," said Dumbledore, as they walked through the streets near the Dursley's home. "Let me give you that special paper and ink I mentioned." He handed a thick package to Harry, who accepted it.

"Do I need to do anything special to get it work"? he asked.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, merely be sure to include that you are writing of your own free will and are not being mistreated, and we will be able to determine if anything is amiss. If you do not include those words or use the correct paper, we will investigate immediately."

"Great," said Harry brightly.

They walked up to Number Four, and for the very first time in Harry's entire life, he was actually looking forward to walking into the Dursley's house.

Harry knocked on the door and waited for his aunt to answer the door - it was unlikely that Vernon or Dudley would bother answering it.

Aunt Petunia opened the door and immediately scowled. "What are you doing here so early? Did you get expelled?"

"Hello, Aunt Petunia," said Harry with an enormous grin. "I've come back a bit early with someone you may know."

His aunt frowned then her eyes widened in horror as she saw who stood behind her nephew.

"It's you!" Petunia shrieked.

"A pleasure to see you too, Mrs. Dursley," replied Dumbledore with a short bow. "May we come in?"

Petunia's face crumpled like she had bit into a lemon, and looked like she wanted to slam the door in their faces. But apparently she thought better of it and stood back to let them in.

"Vernon," she called back in an unsteady voice. "You had better come here at once."

Harry's uncle made some sort of noise and blundered into view, followed by a curious Dudley.

Dudley scowled angrily. "What's _he_ doing back here? And who's the stupid old man?"

Petunia looked like she might faint. "Duddikins, run up to your room dear... quickly. We need to have a quick talk that would be very boring for you. All about books and such."

"If I go, can I get that new game I want?" Dudley wheedled.

"Yes," Petunia almost yelled. "Now go, sweetums."

After Dudley had trudged heavily upstairs, Dumbledore looked around with an incongruous smile.

"Might I assume you had invited us to have a seat?"

Vernon's face turned red. "Now see here, you old fool, I won't have any of this freakish nonsense in my house! We agreed to keep the boy, not put with any of your bloody shenanigans!"

"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked in a quiet, curious tone.

Petunia tugged at Vernon's arm and whispered something in his ear.

Vernon became even madder, but he managed to spit out, "Please have a seat, won't you?" Harry was shocked that Vernon had managed to even say the words without exploding.

"It seems that perhaps we have a bit of a minor issue on our hands," said Dumbledore calmly once they had all sat down in the sitting room. "Involving your relative that you promised to take in and raise as your own - a promise, it seems, you have failed to keep."

Vernon gripped the edge of his seat so tightly, Harry was sure it would break if he kept at it.

"How dare you?" Petunia hissed. "How dare you accuse us so? After all we did for the brat, watching over him, feeding him, doing our best to keep him from your bloody awful _magic_. After what you did, leaving him on our doorstop with a damned note!"

"A note?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Oh, you don't know about that?" Petunia asked acidly. "What a surprise that saintly old Dumbledore treats people so shabbily."

Harry was about to angrily defend the Professor, when Dumbledore held up a hand to forestall the action.

"Before we continue down this acrimonious path, perhaps I should clarify a few things," he said. "First of all, Petunia, I apologize that Hogwarts was unable to accept you - I should have responded in person to explain and perhaps we could have arranged a way for you to visit."

"What's this then?" Harry asked in wonder.

"Pet..." Vernon said slowly. "What - what is he talking about?"

"You... you - horrible old man!" Petunia shrieked shrilly. "Stop trying to ruin my life like you always have!"

"Mr. Dursley," said the Headmaster. "If your concern is whether or not your wife is magical, rest assured that she is not."

"Well, good," Vernon grumbled. "But what's this about trying to be accepted to the... ruddy school of yours?"

Petunia's eye widened in panic.

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "A simple matter to explain, of course. Petunia was under the impression that Hogwarts was merely a special boarding school, and wanted to attend with her sister. Obviously she was disappointed to learn that it was a school for magical people and she could not be a student there." He glanced over at Harry and gave a kind of look, giving Harry the impression that he should play along and not ask further questions about it.

"Yes, that's it," Petunia said in what clearly sounded like relief. "Obviously once I knew what it was, I didn't want any part of such nonsense."

Vernon nodded. "Very good. That's settled, then."

"Now," said Dumbledore. "As for the matter of the note, the explanation is somewhat complicated, so perhaps I can explain in a letter this summer?" He addressed this question to Harry.

"Oh," Harry frowned. "Um, yes, all right. I guess that's fine."

"Excellent," Dumbledore smiled. "Now then, there is one final matter to address. Potter will be sending out a letter to us each week so we can be sure nothing is wrong. If a week passes without a letter, then we will come to investigate."

"You will do no such thing!" Vernon blustered in a nervous manner.

"There are many who would be interested in the conditions of young Potter's upbringing," Dumbledore mentioned almost absently. "Including one of Potter's Professors, someone who grew up around your neighborhood, Petunia - Severus Snape? Perhaps you know him?"

Aunt Petunia stiffened and turned quite pale. "There will be no need for that. You can be sure that the boy will be permitted to send his letter and we will do nothing that even you folk might consider problematic."

"But, dear," Vernon whispered.

"Enough, Vernon," Petunia snapped. "This will not be such a hardship. Potter will do his chores and eat his meals, but otherwise we leave each other be. Is that understood?"

"Yeah!" Harry said agreeably, more than happy with the compromise. Chores weren't so bad, especially if he didn't have to see the Dursleys much more than a little.

"I am glad we were able to agree," Dumbledore stood to leave. "Don't forget that the owl, Hedwig, will be needed to send and receive messages. I am she will be hardly noticeable at all, so you should not worry about that either."

Harry walked his teacher back to the door.

"Sir, did you see?" Harry asked quietly. "Did you see how they treated me like a boy?"

"I did indeed," the Headmaster replied. "And it was useful information for a certainty." He smiled. "Now then, Not-Miss Potter. I wish you the very best summer, and unless there is a problem, I will see you on your birthday."

Harry nodded. "Have a good holiday, sir."

After Dumbledore had left, Harry stuck his head in the sitting room, where his aunt and uncle were still silently looking annoyed.

"I'll take my stuff upstairs and be out of your hair, then," Harry said cheerfully, and turned away without waiting for a reply.

He grinned at Hedwig, who cocked her head curiously. "Well, girl, this looks to be a boring but fairly decent summer, wouldn't you say?" Hedwig just looked at Harry with her usual piercing manner and Harry laughed.

"Well said, girl. Well said."

_End of Book One_

_Next time, Book Two: Harry Potter and the Trouble With Diaries_

"_He sent the letters!" Vernon and Petunia screamed at the same time._

"_What the?" Harry looked up in surprise. "Didn't you get my letters?"_

* * *

And now I will include some omakes as per several requests, which include, shall we say, _alternate_ looks at Harry's first year at Hogwarts.

**OMAKE NUMBERS ONE: HARRY AND FILCH - BEST BUDS FOREVER**

Harry raced down the hallway, hoping Filch hadn't seen him. He couldn't be caught again after dark, and desperately wanted to avoid any more horrid detention.

"Who's there?" Filch yelled out. "Damn you kids, always running away." The gnarled old man then sighed and collapsed on the floor. "Oh, no one will ever talk to me. I'm so alone."

Harry paused, feeling a sudden pang of guilt. He crept back slowly, but very carefully. What if this was just a clever ploy? A nasty trick to get him off his guard then clap him in irons?

"Are - are you okay, sir?" Harry asked softly.

Instantly Filch bolted to his feet with a growl. "Shut up, you! You wouldn't understand what it's like - raised in a Magical family, but not Magical yourself. I am sick and tired of you little brats teasing and jibing me for being a Squib."

"I understand more than you'd think," Harry confided. "I was raised in a Muggle house where they _hated_ magic - and me as well, for that matter."

"Really?" Filch asked, hardly daring to believe.

"Really," Harry confirmed, and grinned widely. Filch then began to laugh horribly, in sick, disgusting, hacking coughs and chortles. Inspired, Harry couldn't help but join in. The two laughed for the next hour.

"Say, you seem like you must know a lot about all sorts of magical things," Harry realized suddenly, interrupting the unsettling laughter. "Like how magical people _really_ are. And better ways to clean! I could always improve my cleaning skills."

Filch cackled and rubbed his hands together. "Oh, the things I could tell you, Potter. The things I could teach you."

"Could you?" Harry asked sincerely.

Filch blinked in surprise. "Oh hell, why not?"

That was when Harry and Felch became the very best of friends. Harry became a creature of the night, learning the secrets of cackling, improving his slinking through the shadows, and overall becoming a truly creepy individual.

Harry roamed the halls at night with Mrs. Norris, giving Filch some well deserved time to rest. They would often take turns, where Harry would act as a caretaker, and Filch would pretend to be Harry and attend classes.

The secret was wearing a pair of glasses and no one was the wiser. As for Harry, when he walked with Mrs. Norris, everyone just assumed it was Filch.

"Morning, Harriet," Ron said cheerily.

"Shut your ugly face," Filch-with-Glasses snarled. "And stop hogging the syrup."

"I love your long hair," Lavender marveled. "So stringy and thin!"

Thus started a bit of a new hairstyle trend with the girls.

And Harry became quite adept at patrolling the late night halls.

"What's this? Children out of bed?" Harry-with-Norris snarled. He saw Fred and George cavorting with some manner of nonsense. "You little punks will get the Iron Maiden for this!"

"And you!" Harry snarled at Professor Snape, who was standing nearby. "Young man, get back to bed this instant!"

"But I'm a Professor," Snape tried to protest, but Harry wasn't about to take that as an excuse.

"Go before I paddle the daylights out of you," Harry spat. Everyone ran in fear before that grisly glare.

"So, Miss Potter, you have come for the Stone, have you?" Quirrell asked.

"No," Filch said with malice. "I've come to tell you to shove that turban up your arse!" He then proceeded to do just that, which had the unexpected side effect of Volotredi fleeing in terror.

The next few years passed quickly...

"All this Chamber needs is a good cleaning," Harry realized.

"Werewolf, shut up!" Filch screamed. "And get back to your detention!" The wolf whined piteously but complied.

"Harriet, will you go to the ball with me?" Random girl #1 asked Filch.

"Get in line," Filch oozed. "I have four nubile ladies already begging for a piece of me."

"Shut up, you cow!" Harry snarled at Umbridge. "Or I'll give you a whipping you won't soon forget! In fact, I'll do it anyhow." A very cowed Dolores left Hogwarts later that day.

"Well, finally we fight, face to face for the last time, Potter!" Volotredi screeched.

"That's what you think!" Filch laughed evilly and whipped off his glasses.

"What in the world? The squib caretaker? Then where's...?" Volotredi's eyes rolled back and the Dark Lady crumpled to the ground, a dagger in the back of her head.

"Behind you," an unshaven Harry chuckled. "And now for the best part: the cleanup!"

"I'll leave you to it," Filch said with a nod. "You've mastered everything I could teach you about care-taking."

Harry was touched and so very proud. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," grumbled Filch and replaced his glasses so he could pretend to be Harriet and find a few curious lesbians.

(Inspired by everyone who asked for a Mentor Filch - and shockingly, it was more than one)

* * *

**OMAKE NUMBERS TWO: YOU EAT LIKE A BIRD**

Harry sat down to enjoy a tasty banquet and eat like a healthy eleven year old. But for some reason, he was only able to eat slowly and very politely, like the way he would stereotypically think about a girl in his head. It began to get annoying, then Harry noticed how utterly rudely Ron was shoveling food into his rapacious gullet.

"Stop eating like that, Ron," Harry scolded. "You'll end up choking!"

"Mmf?" Ron asked cleverly. He swallowed. "What's wrong with the way I eat?"

"You eat like an animal," Hermione sniffed. "And I'm glad someone finally brought to your attention before you insulted someone important."

"Oh is that how it is," Ron asked, an odd glint in his eyes. "Then I suppose we shall see about that. Yes, we shall see about that indeed."

As the days went by, Ron would be seen eating very carefully at meals, less and less, until he had become a mere skeleton of his former self.

"Ron, you've taken this too far," Harry finally said, picking at his own food. "Eat something already."

"Oh, I will," Ron said, then began to laugh maniacally. "I'm just saving up my appetite for something special."

A little while later, Ron and Harry had met up with the troll when trying to rescue Hermione.

"You take Hermione and get out of here," the skeletal Ron grinned horribly. "Let me take care of this."

Harry was too creeped out to argue and dragged Hermione out of the bathroom.

A somewhat less emaciated Ron came to breakfast the next morning, carrying a giant bone with him.

"No!" Harry shouted. "You didn't... you couldn't possibly!"

Ron shrugged. "I was hungry."

"But it smelled awful," Harry protested quietly.

"Yeah, I know," Ron said with a sigh. "And I got an awful stomachache. I'm not doing that again - is it okay if I just eat like I used to from now on?"

Harry nodded frantically. "Yes! I mean - a troll! Gross!"

Ron grinned and began to pour platters of food into his mouth.

Hermione was shocked into near silence. "He didn't really eat that troll, did he? What happens if he stops eating again?"

Harry then smiled slightly. "You know, it's always good to have a secret weapon in reserve. Even if it is disgusting, Ron is a decent bloke. And his appetite just may come in handy someday."

(Inspired by those who wanted the curse to affect how Harry actually acted)

* * *

**OMAKE NUMBERS THREE: THE JOYS OF REAL ESTATE**

Harry and the gang walked down the hallway before class, idly chatting about a number of things.

Neville took a deep breath and seemed to be summoning some sort of strength. "Harriet, you know how I like Herbology?"

"Uh huh," replied Harry absently.

"Well there's something I like even more than that."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he felt suddenly worried. "What's that exactly?"

"Real estate, Harriet. Did you know that wizards have real estate?"

"I suppose I hadn't thought about it," Harry shrugged. "But I suppose they must."

"Oh, it's horribly more complicated than that," Neville said energetically. "It's all really quite fascinating."

"Is that so?" Harry said, mostly ignoring Neville.

"Harriet, can I teach you about real estate?" Neville asked hopefully.

"No you certainly may not," responded Harry with a very big smile. "I am not interested at all."

Neville's eyes glittered. "Oh, for some reason I think that might just change."

Harry had a very bad feeling about that.

Later on, Neville's lectures on real estate began to annoy everyone equally.

"So about the Stone," Harry started to say.

"Harriet, you clearly have no understanding about the subtle intricacies of wizarding real estate." Neville said reproachfully.

Hermione scowled. "Dang it, what's real estate got to do with anything, Neville?"

Neville smiled, pleased to answer this question. "Let me explain. You see, when wizards want to buy or sell a wizarding house, they must first . . ."

Parvati and Lavender groaned, and Ron took the opportunity to take a nap.

Neville rambled on and finally finished his explanation. "As the greatest wizarding real estate agent of all time said, it's all about Wizarding Location, Wizarding Location, Wizarding location!"

"Who was that, Neville?" Hermione couldn't help but ask, although she immediately regretted it.

"Her name was Sara Underhill."

"Sara Underhill?" asked Hermione. "Wait, no, she was listed as the greatest mediwitch of her generation. You must be thinking of Anne Prewett."

Neville scoffed. "Trust a girl to make that kind of foolish mistake.

"But, Neville," Ron piped in, immediately regretting it. He soldiered on nonetheless. "My great aunt, Anne _was_ a wizarding real estate agent and she _did _come up with that phrase."

Neville scowled. "You don't know anything, Ron, so stop being so stupid."

This got everyone just a little bit more annoyed.

Later still...

The group walked towards a giant chess set, and Neville started talking again.

"So as I was saying before the Devil's Snare, you gotta consider amortization rates." Neville chuckled. "Unless you're just an idiot."

Suddenly Ron screamed and punched Neville as hard as he could, dropping the pudgy boy to the ground, knocked completely senseless.

"Guys, I'm so sorry," Ron sighed. "But I couldn't take another Merlin-dunged minute of hearing about bloody real estate!"

"Language, Ron," Hermione scolded. "But still, I'm glad you did that, otherwise I'd have done it myself."

"Just leave him," Harry said. "I'm sure he'll dream wondrous dreams of probates and brokerages." He paled. "Oh blast, now I'm doing it too! Hermione, slap me!"

Hermione was happy to oblige.

Harry shook his head to clear it. "Okay, that's better. Now let's get that stone!"

(inspired by a very special real estate agent)

* * *

**OMAKE NUMBERS FOUR: THAT OLD ERISED MIRROR**

Harry stared in the Mirror of Erised, seeing a girl reflection next to his normal male one. He waved, and both boy and girl waved back. Harry then performed a complicated little dance, and the two reflections matched it perfectly.

"Hmm," Harry mused. "This gives me an idea."

Parvati yawned as she woke up and went to wash up. But she stopped short at a very odd sight.

Harry was fixing his hair in front of a giant mirror.

"Um, Harriet, where did that huge mirror come from?"

"Eh? Oh good morning, Parvati," Harry said pleasantly. "It's some mirror that shows my girl reflection, not that I expect you understand that bit. But now I can finally see what you guys do so I can _finally_ fix my stupid hairstyle!"

"Huh?" Parvati replied in utter confusion.

"Feel free to join in," Harry motioned her over. "I had a bit of time lugging this thing up the stairs - dropped it several times, mind you. But it apparently doesn't break easily, and it's fairly light, so here we are! It's big enough for everyone to use!"

Parvati walked over cautiously and gasped.

"What is it?" Harry asked, a toothbrush in his mouth.

"I see myself all grown up and wondrously beautiful," Parvati enthused. "And I'm kissing this handsome man with messy dark hair and glasses."

"Really?" Harry asked in intrigue. He looked back at the mirror, then back at Parvati and grinned. "How interesting."

What would end up being even odder is that Lavender and Hermione would see the same thing, although Hermione's included having a stylish pair of glasses herself and Lavender's reflection had a very low cut blouse. But Harry decided to note all of it in a journal he had just decided to start using. You could never be too careful for the future, after all.

(Inspired by the idea that the Mirror was the only way Harry could see what other people saw)

* * *

**OMAKE NUMBERS FIVE: A NAME FOR HARRIET**

"Hmm, so I can't call you your actual chosen name," Dumbledore mused and paced a bit around the room. "Perhaps a different name, closer to your own but female so my mind will allow me to say it aloud?"

"I guess that might be okay," Harry allowed.

"How about Hera?" Dumbledore asked. "Queen of the Greek gods."

"No, that sounds too girly," Harry explained.

"Then maybe if I mixed Hera with Aria, the name of a Greek nymph - to make Hera-Aria."

Harry scowled. "Well that just sounds awful."

"Her'Aria?"

"No!"

"Herria?"

"Absolutely not!" Harry crossed his arms.

Dumbledore considered his options. "How about... H'Eyrie?"

"Are you even trying anymore?" Harry asked plaintively.

"Not that much," Dumbledore admitted. "But wait - how about Hermelinda?"

"Stop teasing me!" Harry yelled. "That's not even a real name!"

"Oh, but it is," the Headmaster assured his student. "But I see your point - why _not_ a nonsense one? Perhaps the wondrously invented name of Harry-ina?"

Harry's eye twitched and he began to get a bit of a headache. "Sir, you know what? Just call me Not-Harriet."

Dumbledore frowned. "My dear, now you are just being silly."

(Inspired by my own troubles with coming up with a good name to call Harry)


	9. 9: The Mystery of the Mail

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**All thanks goes to the beta, who only missed one horrible mistake last time - a new record!**

**CHAPTER NINE: THE MYSTERY OF THE MAIL**

Harry Potter was bored. Exceptionally bored. Although perhaps that was a bit of an understatement - it would be far more accurate to say that Harry severely missed Magic.

And the Magical school, Hogwarts.

And perhaps his friends as well, as a bit of an afterthought. But there was a reason he didn't miss them quite as much as he might have initially. They seemed to have completely forgotten him.

Harry's summer had started promisingly enough, and he had begun to settle into a bit of a routine: meals cooked for the Dursleys, and sitting quietly at the table eating his portions by himself after they had finished - which was such an improvement it was a real pleasure; perhaps send Hedwig out for some exercise; and, a nice, long, very pleasant walk outside, not going anywhere, just aimlessly wandering around, picking up sun and listening to the quiet sounds of the neighborhood.

Harry didn't quite want to admit it, but he had been feeling a bit smothered at Hogwarts, surrounded by noise and work and people at all times. He missed his friends, certainly, but it was quite nice to just hang around and do nothing at all. And the Dursleys were more than happy to let him wander away from the house, because it meant they didn't see each other as often. Harry had even felt quite tempted to tease Dudley with magic, as his cousin had clearly been told something by Aunt Petunia that terrified him. But it wouldn't be worth the troubles he'd certainly get from his Aunt and Uncle.

And at the end of each week, Harry would send a short letter to Dumbledore. The first two he signed with a bit of dramatic flourish, amused by the moment and feeling relaxed, and more than that, _happy_ just being a kid with nothing to do.

But as a month went by, Harry began to grow increasingly restless and bored. He even cracked open a few schoolbooks to reread old sections, but this didn't satiate his boredom for long either. The main problem was that no one seemed to be sending him any mail at all - Harry had whipped off a few notes to each of his friends, but still nothing, even after several weeks. It was odd and very annoying - did they have so much better things to do then?

At the end of the week, Harry penned his status letter, although it was mostly filled out by instinct at that point. Hedwig was flying somewhere outside, but as it was night, it was unlikely any Muggles would notice anything. Harry decided to wait outside for Hedwig to return, as at least he'd get some fresh air at the same time.

It seemed that his owl was perhaps a bit psychic, as it didn't take long for the snowy bird to descend from the skies and perch on a nearby ledge, claw outstretched for the note.

Harry couldn't help but grin at his faithful companion, his constant reminder of the wonders of the Magical world. He scratched Hedwig in the manner he knew she liked, then tied his note to her leg. Hedwig nipped at him in her typical affectionate manner, then took off into the night sky.

Harry started suddenly. There seemed to be a kind of rustling sound, almost like someone was hiding in the hedges. Harry peered over at the greenery but he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Although it was dark out, the street was lit fairly well, so Harry could see well enough. But nothing was there.

Perhaps it had been wishful thinking. Another fun Mystery to liven up his summer - although the last one had led to meeting Volotredi face to hideous face. It had been fun though. Flying keys, giant chess pieces...

Harry really missed Hogwarts.

With a sigh, Harry walked inside and back up to his room. After only a few minutes, Hedwig returned, looking oddly ruffled and in a rotten mood.

"That was fast," Harry remarked. Hedwig just glared and hopped back into her cage.

Well, who could figure owls anyway?

* * *

The next week was actually even odder with Hedwig. She snatched the Dumbledore note almost angrily - well, no, it was almost certainly anger. This time she returned again after only a few minutes, looking quite battered.

"Hedwig, what happened?" Harry asked in concern. "Did you still deliver the letter?" In response, Hedwig grabbed a blank piece of paper off Harry's desk with her beak and flew outside.

"That was odd," Harry said to himself. "Well, as long as the letter got delivered, what's the difference?"

The next day, Harry sat down to breakfast with his relatives in complete silence. His uncle was reading the paper, and Dudley had already finished his own meal and was off somewhere. Harry was actually reading one of his schoolbooks - he and the Dursleys had managed to get to a point where as long as Harry didn't actually speak at all, they got on all right.

It was practically civil.

Petunia kept looking at the title of the book then pretending not to be looking at all. Harry found it a bit amusing, but knew better than to tease his aunt about it. Their relationship was nothing close to cordial, of course, but it was kind of a pleasant bland relationship where nobody really annoyed the other one.

Harry breathed in deeply and sighed very softly. It looked to be another quite boring day.

It was at that point that the front door exploded.

Harry was so shocked, he was speechless, and his Aunt and Uncle didn't seem too talkative either at the moment. But the mystery of the explosion was solved when two of Harry's Hogwarts Professors stalked into view, McGonagall and Snape, each with wand raised. But why did they come? Was there an emergency? Perhaps they hadn't received the weekly note?

"He sent the letters!" Vernon and Petunia screamed at the same time.

"What the?" Harry looked up in surprise. "Didn't you get my letters?"

McGonagall, who a moment before had a frighteningly furious expression on her face, now looked surprised and suspicious. "What are you saying, Miss Potter? You sent the note? Are you quite certain? Your owl arrived without anything at all."

"She _has _been acting a bit odd recently," Harry admitted. "She came back kind of quickly the last two times, only a few minutes. And the last time she seemed a bit battered. Maybe she never got there?"

"That may very well be possible," McGonagall said thoughtfully. "I wonder what could possibly have prevented her arrival."

Now that she wasn't being faced by two angry magical adults, Petunia had calmed down a bit and was looking oddly at Snape. She suddenly gasped. "You!"

Snape's lip curled contemptuously. "I see you finally recognize me, Petunia."

"Oh yeah," Harry said. "You two knew each other as kids, right?"

"That would be putting it a bit too kindly in my book," Petunia spat. "This horrid man is the one who ruined everything. He destroyed Lily and corrupted her."

"Don't you dare mouth off to me!" Snape hissed. "Just because I recognized her magical talent and you had to watch jealously instead of being happy for your only sister."

"Get out of my bloody house!" Petunia shrieked. "You're worse than that horrid old man!"

McGonagall started. "Excuse me?"

Petunia scowled. "That blasted Headmaster of yours - the doddering incompetent fool."

As utter silence filled the room, Harry felt a bit certain that this was not quite the best thing for his Aunt to say.

"You _dare_?" McGonagall growled in a matter akin to a giant feline.

"You were always the worthless one," Snape spat. "I see time has only served to cause additional decline into vapid slime."

"Wait, wait!" Harry protested. "Everyone hold up a moment, please before you blow up something else. Shouldn't we be figuring out why you didn't get my letters? How many didn't you get?"

"The previous week's did not arrive at all," McGonagall explained. "And as I said, this week your owl came without anything at all, very suspiciously indeed. I am afraid we assumed the worse."

"Miss Potter," said Snape slowly. "Are you sure that your _relatives _have not impeded these letters at all?"

Harry shook his head. "They really haven't, sir. I wouldn't say we're friends or anything, but it hasn't been so bad."

"Very well," said Professor McGonagall. "You two, leave us be. This is a magical matter, and none of your concern."

Vernon was quick to his feet and pulled the still glaring Petunia with him out of the room.

After the two Muggles had left, McGonagall sighed heavily and sunk into one of the kitchen chairs. "Harriet, would you be a dear and get me a cuppa?"

Harry blinked in surprise but nodded, already automatically going through the motions - he had done this before with his relatives countless times already. After a moment's thought, he brought another cup for Professor Snape as well, thinking it only polite.

"Thank you, Miss Potter," Snape said brusquely, as he continued to look around the room with an expression of extreme suspicion.

"Severus, would you mind terribly taking a look around to see if you notice anything amiss?" McGonagall asked, sipping her tea. "You are better versed in such things, after all."

Snape nodded almost eagerly and slunk off down the hallway.

"Professor," said Harry slowly. "Don't you think we should do something about the door?"

"Oh!" McGonagall suddenly looked a bit more alert. "Yes, very well spotted, Miss Potter. I suppose it is a bit unusual to have a ruined door for the world to see. We were a bit concerned, you understand."

Harry nodded. "Yes, I do understand. But to be honest, even I've been surprised by how well it's gone."

They walked over to the shattered entryway and McGonagall turned back to Harry.

"This is a useful spell to know, although it takes a bit of practice to get it right," she said in her pedagogical tone, causing Harry to instinctively pay attention. And besides, it was great to hear something interesting for once. "The incantation is this: _Reparo_." With a wave of her wand, the door rebuilt itself until it was as good as before - better even, as some of the minor damages from years past were gone as well.

"How long does it last?" Harry asked.

"A very good question," McGonagall said with a smile. "The answer is permanently, if the spell is done properly. It concerns a principle in Charms you haven't got to yet, Once Whole Is Always Whole. The short explanation is that the Mending Charm returns objects to their whole form by using an idealized meta-form - in this case, I imagine the perfect door when casting the spell, and the pieces do their best to follow the example."

"_Reparo_," Harry repeated. "Okay, I think I understand."

Just then, an owl swooped in through one of the open windows and dropped a large parchment envelope at Harry's feet. Harry looked down curiously, seeing that the envelope was addressed to him from the Ministry of Magic. He ripped it open and was utterly shocked by its contents:

_Dear Miss Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that a Blasting Curse was used at your place of residence this morning at twelve minutes past nine._

_As you know, underage witches are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Degree from the Reasonable Restriction of Underage sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C)._

_We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity which risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence, under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy._

_Enjoy your Holidays!_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

Harry just boggled, dumbfounded, as McGonagall looked over his shoulder and then dropped her forehead into the palm of her hand with an audible slap. "My apologies, Harriet. The Trace completely slipped my mind - Severus and I were more concerned with saving you than notifying the Ministry that we would be here, doing magic.

She conjured a quill and ink and a sheet of parchment to send a reply to the Improper Use of Magic Office. "Harriet, give me a moment to explain things to them so that you may retain an unblemished record." Harry nodded numbly as McGonagall began to write.

The door then opened and Professor Snape stepped inside, looking as displeased as he usually did.

"Did you find anything out of the ordinary," asked McGonagall. "Anything Dark or similarly concerning?"

"No," Snape said curtly. "I am afraid that nothing seems mysterious or bizarre. As far as I can tell, the wards are still functioning properly, and there is not a trace of any Dark magic anywhere around. We may have to contact the Headmaster."

Another owl flew in and dropped yet another letter on the floor. It was quite similar to the last one.

_Dear Miss Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that a Error: Unknown Function Charm was used at your place of residence this morning at twenty-three minutes past nine . . ._

Harry handed the letter over to Snape and quickly explained that he had received a letter already.

Snape's lip curled condescendingly. "Typical Ministry nonsense."

McGonagall rolled her eyes. Harry boggled again at this uncharacteristic behavior.

McGonagall then bit her lip in annoyance. "Getting back to our problem, I was hoping it wouldn't come to that, he is quite busy." She sighed and straightened her shoulders a bit. "Very well, I shall send a note using the typical method."

Snape's eyebrows raised. "Not using an owl?"

Three more owls flew in. These letters, however, did not wait for Harry to pick them up, but actually opened and read themselves aloud at the same time, so there was a reverberating effect as they read at the same time:

_Dear Miss Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that a Quill/Sheet of Paper/Jar of Ink Conjuration was used at your place of residence this morning at twenty-five minutes past nine . . ._

Harry was beginning to realize that this was clearly a magically generated form-letter.

McGonagall bristled visibly. "I am going to slap Mafalda Hopkirk!" She attached her original reply to one of the owls and sent it back to the Ministry of Magic.

"No, I'm not sending an owl, Severus," McGonagall said in a huff. "I'd rather not waste any additional time if we can help it. _Expecto Patronum_." To Harry's complete shock, a shimmery, silver shape shot from her wand, and it solidified into the form of a medium-sized cat with glasses. Instantly the room felt a bit cheerier and lighter.

"We need your assistance for what is probably not an emergency, but expediency may be needed," the Professor instructed the cat, which then nodded its head and disappeared.

"What was that?" Harry asked in excitement. "What does, um, _Expulso Patronum _do?"

Snape snorted. "The proper incantation is _Expecto Patronum_, Miss Potter," he said, carefully stressing the syllables. "It is a very powerful spell called the Patronus Charm, but do not attempt to cast it - it takes a mature witch or wizard with careful willpower to even manage a non-corporeal summoning."

"Um," Harry replied, a bit confused.

"Corporeal means having substance, like a person or beast," McGonagall lectured. "Thus non-corporeal refers to having no substance, like a ghost or a puff or air. Only a corporeal Patronus, which is what that cat was, can be used to send messages. But Professor Snape is quite right, you should not attempt the spell yourself until you are older - even many adults are incapable of it." She pursed her lips. "I know better than to forbid it altogether, of course, but it is dangerous to cast spells above your level. I suppose when you are in your fourth or fifth year we can revisit it if you wish."

"I would, Professor," Harry said politely.

Another owl flew in and another letter opened and read itself to them:

_Dear Miss Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that a Patronus Charm was used at your place of residence this morning at twenty-eight minutes past nine . . ._

"BY MORGANA'S FAIGHEAN!" McGonagall, screamed. Her eyes went wide and she slowly turned around to face Harry. "Harriet . . . please forget you heard that . . ."

"I'm not even sure I could pronounce that last bit," Harry reassured her.

He then heard a knock on the door.

McGonagall rolled her eyes and waved her wand, causing to the door to open. The Headmaster stood there, with a fairly pleasant expression on his face.

"Enough of your theatrics, Albus," McGonagall said in an annoyed tone. "We have an odd issue that must be resolved at once."

"I see," Dumbledore replied in a very serious tone, stroking his beard in a manner that caused Harry to almost burst out laughing. Dumbledore's eyes did not seem to be take his own words that seriously, after all. "What seems to the trouble?"

"There is a problem with the mail," Snape said curtly. "Apparently Miss Potter has not received any letters, and we have not received the prior two weeks' worth."

"Very mysterious," Dumbledore nodded. "And you checked for any odd magic around?"

"Yes," Snape answered. "Nothing I could notice, and the wards seemed functional as well."

"And I do not believe the Dursleys were involved," McGonagall put in. "As much as it pains me to admit it."

"My dear," Dumbledore asked Harry. "Have you experienced anything unusual with your mail?"

"Actually, I have," Harry agreed. "Like Professor Snape said, I haven't gotten any mail at all - and I thought everyone was just too busy."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not at all - in fact, I myself sent you more than one missive, and I know others have sent you letters as well. And yet, your owl delivered the first few letters to us, did it not?"

McGonagall nodded. "Yes, I received the first several, so I didn't think there was anything wrong at first."

"Well," Harry said in thought. "Hedwig seemed to be annoyed last week - and she did come back pretty early, only after a few minutes. I thought it was odd, but she didn't seem up to flying again. This last week, she came back after a minute or so, looking not so good, then she grabbed a piece of paper from my desk."

"Ah," McGonagall realized. "That explains the blank paper we received. But what could be causing this mail issue? Something that only just recently began taking mail from Hedwig as well?"

"A very good question, indeed," Dumbledore mused. "Perhaps I should investigate." He pulled out his wand and began to wave it around, walking slowly around the house.

"Severus, would you mind returning to Hogwarts?" McGonagall asked. "Now that it is not an absolute emergency, it would be good to have a presence there for the time being."

Snape didn't look happy but nodded. "Very well, but inform me the moment there is a problem, if you will." He turned to Harry. "Keep up your studies, Miss Potter. I would not be pleased if you had forgotten all the work you had completed from last year."

"Don't worry, sir," Harry assured his Professor. "I know better than that."

Snape smirked a bit, then nodded and left the house.

McGonagall sighed. "This may take a while, Miss Potter. Perhaps I can answer some of your questions about the Patronus Charm, since I know you are very curious."

Harry nodded eagerly, and they returned to the kitchen so McGonagall could finish her tea.

By the time Dumbledore had returned from completing whatever it was he was doing, it was already lunchtime, and Harry had highly impressed McGonagall with his efficient food preparation skills.

"It's no big deal," he waved off the compliment. "I've been doing it for years, after all."

McGonagall did not quite seem to like that answer.

"Ah, lunch!" Dumbledore said with a smile. "Would you mind terribly if I had a sandwich? I am a mite peckish, after all."

Harry laughed. "Go ahead sir. I figure I owe you after all that Hogwarts fed me."

"Headmaster," McGonagall growled. "Please do tell us what you may have discovered."

Dumbledore wiped his mouth a bit dramatically. "Ah, yes, the results of my investigative queries. It would appear that the wards are indeed functioning correctly - there is no magic here that would prevent mail from being sent or received."

McGonagall frowned. "Then what in the world is the matter?"

"I have a possible theory," Dumbledore said a bit softly, then waved his wand. "A minor privacy charm, just in case. As I said, I found no magical interference. There was an odd magical residue I didn't recognize, however. And the interesting part was that it was clearly indicative of a house-elf's magic."

McGonagall sat up in surprise. "A house-elf? Surely the wards could prevent their entry as well?"

"Only if they intended harm," corrected Dumbledore. "And unfortunately, I don't believe minor annoyance due to lack of mail quite counts as harm as the wards are concerned. A house-elf could indeed be capable of such acts of theft, although only if they intended no harm. That is the odd part about it, in my way of seeing it."

McGonagall nodded. "I see your point."

"Um," Harry carefully interrupted. "Excuse me."

"Miss Potter?" McGonagall asked, as though she had forgotten Harry was still there. "Is there a problem?"

"Well, this may sound odd, but I don't know what house-elves are."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah, my mistake. Forgive an old man's oversight, if you can, my dear. I suppose it would seem more than a tad mysterious if you were not familiar with the term. House-elves are a sort of magical creature, sentient like humans or goblins, and very short, much like the goblins. They are a what you might call a brownie or hob - they are special, helpful beings that live in human houses and assist with various chores."

"Oh," Harry said. "And I think I remember saying that Hogwarts had some, right?"

"Correct, Harriet," McGonagall replied. "You see, a house-elf needs a magical place to live or it cannot survive. Originally they lived in naturally magical areas, but as their populations grew, they needed other places, so they and humans formed partnerships, in a matter of speaking. The house-elves would be bound to the family, and thus would have the magical environment they required."

"As for the work they performed," Dumbledore put in. "The key to understand them is that house-elves are particular about their ways - they do not wish payment, as they feel it cheapens their bond with their family. They enjoy helping out around the house, but prefer not to be seen, only quietly appreciated - which is why you have never seen any in Hogwarts."

"But you're saying that house-elf stopped my mail, right?" Harry pointed out. "How could that be considered a chore?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately, this has come from an old tradition that has evolved over time. Centuries ago, there was a movement to create a far stronger bond between house-elves and their families, but this had the side effect of forcing the house-elf to be forced to obey any commands. The only way for a house-elf to be released was for an owner to give them one piece of their own clothes, as a way of saying they no longer needed them."

"And they have often been highly mistreated," McGonagall mentioned. "Many families have developed environments where the house-elves are treated terribly and forced to perform onerous tasks. And these elves teach their children that such is the proper way, and over the centuries, many house-elves have become effectively no more than slaves."

"That's horrible!" Harry exclaimed. "But wait... so what you're saying is that this house-elf might've been ordered to take my mail? Why?"

"That is the question, isn't it?" Dumbledore replied. "As I see it, there are only two possibilities: one, that someone ordered their house-elf to take your mail for what they considered a good cause, which does not entirely make sense to me. The other option is that the house-elf somehow did this on its own volition, which does not exactly make sense either."

"No, it does not," McGonagall said angrily. "But how could we possibly find out? House-elves are very difficult to find when they try to hide, unless they belong to you."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "That is why we will need to have Potter confront the house-elf and find out the underlying motive."

"Me?" Harry asked in surprise. "But how do we do that?"

Dumbledore smiled and chuckled softly. "We set a trap."

* * *

Harry paced nervously in his room, hoping that the Headmaster's plan would work without any problems. Merely trying to remember all the advice he had been given of how to handle house elves was already taking up most of his active thoughts and energy.

"_Remember, although house elves are not permitted to reveal their owner's secrets, they can still succumb to loopholes in language," Dumbledore had explained. "Meaning that you may be able to trick them into revealing information if you word your questions cleverly enough. And don't forget that, no matter what, the protections on the house will prevent any physical harm, so you should be in no direct danger."_

"_We cannot be too close by," McGonagall had then put in. "The house elf must believe you are alone or it might be too scared to reveal itself. Otherwise, just be on your guard and do not reveal anything that you do not need to reveal - their owner should not be aware of your secrets, after all."_

"_But how can we be sure the house elf will even show?" Harry had asked._

"_It is a simple matter, really," Dumbledore explained. "The house elf will notice the workaround to the mail and be compelled to reveal itself - its psychological makeup essentially requires it to happen."_

But Harry wasn't sure about that, and thought he would feel quite foolish pacing around his room for a day without anyone showing up. As the evening came quickly, Harry realized that the call of nature was beckoning - and this was another thing a bit more pleasant at the Dursley's than at Hogwarts, although that was a very short list.

As Harry walked into his room, his heart nearly leaped from his chest. A small creature was sitting on his bed, with large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls - clearly this was the mysterious house elf that had been causing the mail troubles, wasn't it?

"Um, hello," said Harry, getting back his bearings. "Nice to meet you. Who are you?"

"Dobby, ma'am. Just Dobby."

Harry wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but the diminutive creature spoke with a high-pitched voice that was a tad irritating.

"Oh, okay," replied Harry. "As I said, good to meet you, Dobby. I'm Harry Potter."

The house elf blinked and its eyes began to fill with tears.

"Dobby has never..." Dobby shook his head to clear it. "Dobby knows who Harriet Potter is, of course, as all house elves must."

Harry brightened. "Ah, excellent, so you _are _a house elf then. I've always wanted to meet one. What's it like being a house elf?"

Dobby's expression fell a bit. "To be a house elf is a wondrous thing, Harriet Potter. To be able to help out wizards and families is what all house elves love. But some families are not always kind to house elves." The house elf abruptly stopped speaking and to Harry's horror, jumped off the bed and began to bash his head on the window. "Bad Dobby!"

"Here now, stop that! Stop it!"

Dobby blinked and looked back at Harry curiously.

"What on earth are you doing?" Harry was wondering why the Professors hadn't mentioned anything about this self-flagellating behavior.

"Dobby must punish himself," the elf explained. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, ma'am."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. A family that mistreated its house elf but didn't want to harm Harry? Either they were decent but didn't care well for their servants, which was bad, or they were a nefarious sort and the house elf was doing what they didn't want - which was also bad.

"Well, none of that here, understand?" Harry said in a very clear tone. "There are no house elf punishments allowed in this house, all right?"

Dobby nodded.

"Here, why don't you sit down and tell me why you've come to visit?"

Instantly Dobby burst in tears. "S-sit down! Never ever has Dobby been invited to sit down by a witch or wizard - like an equal!"

Harry frowned, finding himself disliking this mystery family more and more. "Don't worry about it, Dobby, I happen to think that house elves are just as important as humans."

Dobby's mouth dropped open and he seemed completely speechless. Finally, Dobby managed to squeak out, "Dobby had no idea... he should've known, of course, that Harriet Potter is as good as she is great. The kindest of hearts and the noblest of spirits! Of course the defeater of the Dark Lady is valiant and true."

Harry felt a bit embarrassed by the effusive praise, which seemed a bit unwarranted. "I mean, it's true that I did defeat the Dark Lady, as you call her, although I was just a baby."

Dobby leaned toward Harry, his eyes wide as headlights, a grin on his face.

"Dobby heard tell," he said hoarsely, "that Harriet Potter met and defeated the Dark Lady for a second time just weeks ago… is it true?'"

"Well," Harry answered reluctantly. "I suppose technically it's true, although it's not like I didn't have help."

Dobby beamed and bounced up and down in glee. "Dobby knew it! Dobby is so honored to finally be able to thank Harriet Potter in person."

Harry sighed. "Yes, well, you're welcome, I guess, though I don't know what help I specifically did for you."

"The Dark Lady hated non-humans," Dobby explained. "She wanted to get rid of us all."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Okay, that's a pretty good reason not to like her."

"But Dobby is here for a reason," the house elf said sternly. "Since Harriet Potter did not take the mail warning seriously."

"So you _did_ block my mail, then?" Harry bit his lip. "I don't suppose you still have it?"

"Dobby might," the house elf admitted. "But he will only return it if Harriet Potter makes a promise."

Harry felt a bit uneasy. "What kind of promise?"

"Harriet Potter must not return to Hogwarts!"

"Here now," Harry scoffed. "That's ridiculous. Of _course_ I'm returning to Hogwarts - I need to keep learning about magic, don't I?"

"But Harriet Potter cannot!" Dobby wailed. "She is in grave danger this year! Mortal danger! There is a terrible, evil plot at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year!"

"I don't suppose you can tell me what this plot is?" Harry asked, not expecting a good answer.

Dobby made a funny choking sound and shook his head frantically.

"All right, all right, I get it. But here's the thing, Dobby - there might be a way for me to go to Hogwarts and still be safe."

Dobby titled his head in curiosity. "How can Harriet Potter do that?"

A bit of progress. Harry tried to avoid putting an obvious smile on his face.

"Simple, Dobby. You already know that the Professors and Headmaster Dumbledore are there, right?"

"Yes," Dobby nodded.

"Dobby knows it, ma'am. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of her strength. But, ma'am" — Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper — "there are powers Dumbledore doesn't… powers no decent wizard…"

And before Harry could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized Harry's desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with earsplitting yelps.

Harry yanked the lamp away and scowled. "What did I say about house elf punishments?"

The house elf withered a bit. "Dobby is sorry, ma'am."

"Never mind that," Harry said, shaking his head. "The point is, sure, maybe the Professors can't protect me - but there's someone who can."

Now the house elf looked utterly curious. "Who is that, Harriet Potter?"

Harry laughed. "Why it's you, of course!"

Dobby blinked in complete surprise. "But... Dobby does not. he cannot..."

"I know what you're going to say," Harry said quickly. "You can't reveal your family's secrets, which include this plot. I got that. And I assume you can't directly go against their plans, either, right?"

Dobby nodded.

"But think about it, Dobby," Harry said, just realizing it as he began talking. "You already have gone against them - _indirectly_, by warning me here. And you can do the same thing if you stop by and visit at Hogwarts - you can warn me without actually doing anything directly against the plan."

Dobby's face began to look a bit devious. "Dobby thinks he understands, ma'am. Harriet Potter is very clever, very clever indeed. She is surely the greatest witch ever!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm glad we've got it figured out, then. Can I have my mail back?"

Dobby snapped his fingers and a small pile of letters appeared on Harry's bed.

"That's brilliant," Harry said with a grin. "You house elves have some impressive magic."

Dobby's eyes watered dramatically and he bowed deeply.

"Hold on," Harry held up a hand. "Dobby, before you go, can I ask you a question?"

"Harriet Potter can ask whatever she wants - but Dobby cannot reveal any secrets, as Harriet Potter already knows."

Harry nodded. "Right. So I want to send a gift to your master's house, can I get an address?"

"Yes!" Dobby shouted happily. "Dobby can do that! Send your gift to 38 The Dormers, Highworth, Wiltshire!"

"I hope they like it," Harry said, quickly writing down the address. "I have a feeling they just might."

Dobby laughed. "Dobby thinks so, too, Harriet Potter! Dobby will see you at Hogwarts, then!"

Harry grinned. "Sounds good. Try to avoid too many punishments back home, eh?"

Dobby nodded once and vanished.

Harry sighed and leaned back on his bed, looking at the address he had written down. That had gone a lot better than he had expected.

* * *

It took Harry the better part of a week to read through and respond to his missed correspondence. He felt a great deal better now that he knew that they weren't actually ignoring him, but merely impeded by a well-intentioned house elf.

Amusingly enough, several of the letters expressed concern that Harry wasn't writing back.

_Harriet, I hope your summer's been going good. Things are boring over here, though I do have the greenhouse to work in. When will you be able to visit? My grandmother probably wouldn't want visitors, but we could meet with everyone in Hogsmeade or something. Let me know._

_-Neville_

_Harriet, I am so bored, there is literally NOTHING to do this summer. How are the Muggles? Were they scared by Professor Dumbledore? I want to know every detail!_

_-Parvati_

_Hey, Harriet, it's Ron. I'm just back at home, but it's all the same over here. Train ride was dull. Are you gonna come by at some point? Maybe the whole Trapdoor gang could hang out? My Mum would love to meet you - well, the whole family would, really._

_-Ron_

_Dear Harriet,_

_Hello! I hope your summer is thus far educational and not too stifling with your relatives. Have they been acceptable, considering what you mentioned about talking to them with the Headmaster? We're about to go on holiday to France for a few weeks, and I've been reading all about the French Magical community - it's so fascinating! I hope I learn all sorts of interesting things about the way it differs from the British one. Gotten a head start on your assignments? I've finished them already, of course, you know how I am about that sort of thing. But if you haven't, you shouldn't put them off - like we both know some of our other friends will. Oh, and if you happen to see Padma, don't let her talk your ear off - we had some interesting but slightly acrimonious discussions after you left with the Headmaster, and it didn't end that well. She's already sent me ten letters in three days, if you can believe it. I'll tell you more when I see you - hopefully as soon as I return!_

_Love from Hermione_

_Dear Harriet, I just found out I'll be out of town for a while, probably until after your birthday, but let me know when you can go to Diagon Alley for supplies, and we'll certainly meet up then! See you!_

_-Lavender_

_Dear Harriet,_

_You haven't written me back, are you all right? Are the Muggles letting you send out mail? I suppose that's a foolish thing to ask if they are impeding your messages, but just in case, please write back if you can._

_-Hermione_

_Harriet, you okay? It's been weeks and nobody's heard anything from you!_

_-Ron_

_Harriet, if you got a letter from Padma, please DO NOT open it - I saw her writing it and it's just nonsense you wouldn't care about, plus it's like a million pages long! We're leaving on holiday now, we'll be back soon!_

_-Parvati_

And then there was the letter from Dumbledore, which attempted to explain why Harry had been left on the Dursley's doorstep with just a note.

_Dear Not-Harriet Potter,_

_I know that I mentioned an explanation regarding your arrival at the Dursley's house when you were an infant. The specifics are complicated, but essentially the core of it is that you are highly protected from harm if you live with your aunt. The degree of protection was exponentially higher because she took you in without any coercion or convincing on my part. If she had been threatened or guilted into accepting you, the protection would not have been nearly as effective. Obviously I feel deeply ashamed for the hurts you have experienced with the Dursleys, and I hope I can make it up to you in the future. Please don't hesitate to write if you have further questions. I will be a bit busy this summer, partially concerning alternate living arrangements for you, but I will be sure to make the time to write back._

_Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore_

It all seemed reasonably logical to Harry, although he still wished there had been a different place he could have lived. Eventually he did write back to the Headmaster, although he mainly asked about when he could leave and where he stay until the start of the term.

Several days later, he finally received a response.

_Dear Not-Harriet Potter,_

_After making several inquires, I believe we have come to a reasonable solution for the remainder of the summer. The Patils have informed me that they would permit you to stay with them, but they will not be back until the beginning of August, a day or so after your birthday. If it is acceptable to you, you can stay with the Weasleys until then - they have a daughter, so there should be no awkwardness from that perspective, except of course, from your own. But as you have been living with girls for a year, I feel you can handle it commendably._

_As you may or may not know, the Browns and Grangers are on holiday, and I wouldn't feel it prudent for you to stay with Muggles other than your direct relatives in any event. And as for the Longbottoms, Madame Longbottom is a good woman, but she would not be comfortable with a girl staying in the same house with only her and her grandson. If the Weasleys are acceptable, let me know and I will tell them to prepare for your arrival on your birthday. Otherwise, we will figure something else out._

_Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore_

Harry eagerly wrote back that this was an acceptable idea and packed all his things in preparation, although his birthday was still several days away. He mentioned to his relatives that he would be leaving soon, which pleased them immensely.

"Good!" Uncle Vernon had exclaimed. "After all you've put us through, it's about time we had some peace and quiet around here." Harry's uncle had also spent a great deal of time suspiciously examining the magically repaired door, but unable to find anything specifically wrong. And as for Aunt Petunia, she didn't even speak to Harry any longer.

Finally the day arrived, and Harry sat that evening on the doorstep with his things, waiting very impatiently. It was almost midnight, but Harry was all too ready to leave not a moment later than necessary, and had told the Headmaster as much in a letter.

Harry kept his eyes on his watch, counting down the last few seconds. 10… 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... ! And there it was, Harry was officially one year older.

"Well, a very happy birthday to you, Not-Harriet!"

Harry leaped up in shock, then frowned. "Professor, you didn't need to startle me like that."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, I can see you are ready to go at a moment's notice. Have you said your farewells?"

"Yeah, to the extent we speak, they know I'm leaving."

Dumbledore sighed. "I see. And you are certain you have everything?"

"Triple-checked them, sir," Harry grinned. "And the Weasleys know I'm coming?"

"Indeed," the Professor answered. "Now, walk with me a bit and keep a tight grip on your belongings. We must be a bit away from the house so as not to trigger any more troublesome warnings from the Ministry."

"Oh, you heard about that?" Harry asked. "Um, there's no trouble with them, is there?"

"No," answered Dumbledore. "Minerva explained that she had performed the spells during a routine visit, and they expunged the marks from your record. But before we leave, you should let Hedwig get there on her own - owls do not care for Disapparition, and they fly fast enough on their own."

"Okay," said Harry, unlocking the cage. "Hedwig, you can find me if I'm somewhere else, right?" The owl nipped him affectionately in response and took to the air. "Wait a moment, sir, what was that word you just mentioned? Disapportion?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, I said _Dis-ap-par-i-tion_," he pronounced the word carefully, "which is the act of Disapparating, or magically moving from one place to another. It is called Apparition when you arrive, and Disapparition when you leave. You will not learn how until you are sixteen, as it can be quite dangerous without proper training. Many wizards never properly learn it, as point of fact. Now, please take my arm and I will take us to the Weasleys."

It was an uncomfortable feeling akin to getting squeezed through a tube, and Harry felt quite relieved when it was all over. He stood there in front of a quite curious house, several stories high, crooked and misshapen in a cheerful manner. It seemed about the most opposite from Privet Drive as Harry could imagine.

Dumbledore walked with Harry to the front door and knocked once loudly.

Instantly the door flew open, and a short, plump, red-haired woman opened it - Harry somewhat recalled her from his first trip to the train almost a year earlier.

"Oh, it's you! Headmaster, it's so good to see you, won't you come in?"

"I am afraid that other matters vie for my attention, but I shall gladly accept on another occasion," Dumbledore replied with a bow. "But our young friend here is probably quite tired, and I am sure sleep is needed, especially at that age.."

Harry chuckled. "Yes, I suppose so. I'll see you at Hogwarts, then?"

Dumbledore nodded and winked. He then walked away into the darkness and vanished with a popping sound.

"Well, come in, then, my dear!" Mrs. Weasley hurried Harry inside. "I'll go tell Percy to bring your things upstairs. I believe Ginny's asleep - ah, that's my youngest, you'll be staying with her, of course. If that's not a problem, sharing a room?"

"I've done it all year at Hogwarts," Harry pointed out. "So it's no worry. Is Ron asleep too?"

Mrs. Weasley frowned and did not look very happy. "You don't know where he is, then? Him or the twins?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "No, you mean they're not here?"

"No!" Mrs. Weasley said in a very worried tone. "They're missing!"

* * *

_Next time, a birthday reunion._

"_Oh, that nearly reminds me," said Parvati. "You missed the big argument about house elves."_

"_What's to argue about?" Harry asked. "Unless... uh oh. What did you tell Hermione?"_


	10. 10: A Reasonably Happy Birthday

A bit delayed, I know, but you know - holidays and all that rot.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**Some say the beta is an invisible entity, correcting typos from the hidden plane of darkness. I know better - he's just really short.**

**CHAPTER TEN: A REASONABLY HAPPY BIRTHDAY**

Harry was suddenly very worried. "Where would they go? Are they in trouble?"

"Oh, I don't know," Mrs. Weasley worried, wringing her hands in the air. "Maybe I should check the clock again." She turned and hurried into the kitchen, Harry trailing behind her, to look at a very odd clock with several hands, one for each Weasley family member. There were also several locations marked on the clock, such as _Home, School, Work, Travelling, Lost, Hospital, Prison, Quidditch, _and _Mortal Peril_. The hands belonging to Ron and the twins were currently pointing to _Travelling_.

"That's an interesting clock," Harry said. "Is it accurate?"

"Oh, yes, dear, quite accurate," Mrs. Weasley said distractedly. "But I don't know where they could be... _Travelling_ could mean anything."

"Well, it's not _Mortal Peril_, so they're probably okay, right?" Harry pointed out, although this seemed more a guess than anything else. He found himself coveting a clock for himself and his friends as well - it seemed quite a handy thing.

Mrs. Weasley nodded and smiled slightly. "That's a good point, Harriet. But goodness, it's awfully late for you - let me go get Percy."

She walked up a crooked but somehow pleasant set of staircases. Harry found himself getting amused by all the oddities he was not used to in a Muggle house, with things moving you didn't expect to move, and colors that Harry wasn't sure actually existed.

A bleary-eyed Percy Weasley trudged down the stairs, but he paused and gave a very polite bow.

"Miss Potter, very good to see you. Are you well?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'd take my stuff up myself, but you know... can't use magic and all that."

Percy nodded. "Quite right, excellent attitude. If only Ron had the same reasonable perspective - he's been constantly complaining about it all summer. In any event, are you familiar with the Featherweight Charm?"

"I've read about it," answered Harry. "But we never got it in class."

"Well, pay attention, then. Obviously you won't be able to reproduce this until start of term, but it is a relatively simple incantation. You swish your wand in a curved upward motion like this," Percy demonstrated the wand wave. "And then you say the following: _Pluma Levior_. Now the trunk would be easy for even a small child to carry. Go ahead, see for yourself."

Harry tried to pick up his trunk, and sure enough, it was as light as a piece of paper.

"Nice work, Percy," he said with a grin. "I can bring it up then."

"Oh no," Percy shook his head. "My mother wouldn't be happy about that. I can handle it." He waved his wand and all of Harry's things floated into the air.

Harry heard a shuffling sound, and turned to see Mrs. Weasley walked down the stairs with an annoyed expression on her face.

"Harriet, I'm sorry, but it appears that Ginny has been waiting up until you arrived, contrary to what I _told _her." This last part was directed a bit louder up the stairs. "If you feel up to it, I'm sure she'd like to talk for a bit, but don't feel obligated to stay up - and for that matter, she should be asleep already in any case."

"Well," Harry said, suddenly yawning. "I guess I'm bit knackered. But I don't want to fall asleep with Ron and the twins still out there."

"Don't be silly," Mrs. Weasley scolded. "It's not like there's anything you can do about it, in any event. Just get some rest, and let the adults take care of things."

Harry frowned. "Well, all right."

"Hello!"

Harry turned towards the stairs to see a short, red-haired girl grinning widely at him.

"Hi, I'm Ginny!" The girl almost shrieked, but although Harry was a bit used to the high pitched squeals of his roommates, he couldn't help but wince.

"Yes, hello," Harry answered. "I'm Harry Potter."

Ginny laughed. "Yes, a bit obvious, isn't it?"

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley said harshly. "Watch yourself, young lady! And remember what I said: none of those stories, are we understood?"

"Yes," Ginny drawled, rolling her eyes.

"I don't mind," Harry put in. "What kind of stories?"

"Oh, don't worry about it, Harriet dear," Mrs. Weasley soothed. "Nothing you'd be interested in. Now both of you, off to bed! We'll have a nice breakfast tomorrow morning, and I'm sure the boys will turn up by then." Mrs. Weasley said this last part with a warm smile, although her eyes seemed a bit worried.

"Come on, Harriet!" Ginny grabbed Harry's hand. "Let me show you my room! Girls only, right?"

"Um, yeah." He let the young girl drag him up the winding stairs to her small room.

It was a pleasant, friendly sort of room, with bright, cheery colors, and all matter of personal affects littering the room. Typical sort of thing, with a few ragged dolls, well-read books, and a Quidditch poster or two. There was a sleeping mat as well, clearly intended for Harry, and Percy had left Harry's trunk there as well.

Ginny looked at Harry a bit nervously.

"You have a very nice room," Harry told Ginny, thinking that perhaps that was what she was worried about. "I particularly like the Quidditch stuff. You a big fan?"

"Oh, yes!" Ginny nodded with an enormous grin. "I quite like the Harpies, they have all women, of course. And I love to fly."

"You fly?" Harry blinked in surprise. "But you haven't started at Hogwarts yet."

"Well, I sneak out at night to practice," Ginny confided. "And I'm pretty good. Although probably not as good as you - I've heard quite a few tales." She grinned again. "Actually you're pretty popular around the house."

"I am pretty good friends with Ron," Harry pointed out. "He's a decent bloke."

Ginny giggled. "I don't think I'd ever have put it like that, but I suppose. But yes, obviously Ron loves you to pieces!"

Harry wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

"Oh, um, nothing like that!" Ginny quickly said, clearly having caught the look on Harry's face. "He just talks a lot about you and your adventures. And the Twins are fans, obviously, since you helped the team win so much. And Percy has house pride, so that affects him, and he says that in general you have a 'decent attitude', whatever that means."

Harry shrugged. "Couldn't say."

Ginny clapped her hands together. "Oh, but it's so marvelous to finally meet you. I mean, you hear all sorts of things about what you did as a kid, but it seems that the real stories are even better!"

"Wait a moment," Harry frowned. "What did you hear about me as a kid?"

"Oh, nothing important," Ginny said, suddenly looked a bit chagrined. "There are just some silly stories people tell about you. They even published some fiction books about you, but then someone stopped the publishers, so they're hard to find these days. You know, like _Harriet Potter and the Mysterious Tunnel _or _Harriet Potter's Wonderful Day at Sea_? I know it's not really you, but you get to fight pirates and hunt dragons and ride your faithful unicorn steed Persephone to battle."

Harry snorted. "That sounds pretty silly. My life was pretty boring until I got to Hogwarts. Then, I must admit, we did have our share of excitement."

"I've heard," Ginny winked. "Fighting a troll, my parents weren't happy about that one. And then you actually faced off against You-Know-Who again - is that really true?"

"Yes, it's true," answered Harry. "I don't know how much Ron said or exaggerated, but yeah, we were trying to stop someone from stealing the Philosopher's Stone - you know what that is?"

Ginny nodded. "Ron explained it. Mum didn't think he was telling the truth about it. He also said he had to defeat a giant, evil chess set that was trying to kill you." She laughed. "Nobody believed that one."

Harry smirked. "Actually it's quite true. He even sacrificed himself to win the game, got hit on the head quite hard. Although that's hardly the worst place to hit him, naturally. Imagine if his stomach was damaged? He'd be heartbroken."

Ginny giggled, then looked a bit thoughtful. "Wow, I didn't realize. I guess Ron deserves a bit more respect than I was giving him."

"Ron does manage to sneak in a bit of respectability every so often," Harry said with a wink, then suddenly yawned. "Ginny, sorry, it's nice chatting, but I'm really quite tired."

"Oh, I am so sorry," Ginny worried. "I'll get the light. We'll have plenty of time to talk later, after all. Good night then."

Harry slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed, clothes and all, too tired to care.

"Night, Ginny."

* * *

Harry awoke to the sound of some commotion. It was still fairly early out, with the last glimpses of dawn still tentatively grasping the sky. Ginny was still fast asleep, so Harry slipped out of his bed to see what was going on.

He heard voices coming from outside, and as the front door was ajar, Harry sneaked a bit closer to find out what was going on.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger into a very nervous Fred's chest.

And there were George and Ron, seemingly safe and sound. Well, that was good news at the least. Mrs. Weasley continued yelling quite impressively, until she finally got rather hoarse and took a break.

Harry took this opportunity to open the door and step outside. "Hello, what's all this then?" he asked with a wide grin.

"Harriet!" Ron exclaimed. "So you _are_ here then, after all."

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Didn't you listen to a word I just said, Ronald Weasley?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Harry interjected. "Dumbledore brought me here last night."

The Weasley boys were all quite taken aback at that.

"Dumbledore did?" Ron asked uneasily. "But I thought..." He trailed off in confusion.

Fred shook his head. "Ronnie here gave us the impression that you needed to be rescued from your relatives. But then we head over there, and you weren't around at all."

"Wait!" Harry felt a bit light-headed. "You were at the Dursleys? They can't have liked that." And here he had been hoping some sort of progress had made. All of the magical interruptions couldn't be good for that.

"Well, no," Fred sighed. "Took a while to explain who we were, and why we were there."

"We didn't believe them, at first," George piped up. "Nasty folk. Um, no offense."

"None taken," Harry grumbled. "They aren't the nicest bunch, but we had gotten to a somewhat civil point. Now I don't think they'd even let me back in the house, not that I'd really want to go back in any event."

Ron pulled out a piece of paper. "But your note said that you needed to leave the Dursleys and come here midnight on your birthday."

"True," Harry agreed. "But I thought I said that Dumbledore would be taking me here. Didn't I?"

"Um," Ron scanned the paper. "Oh, it appears that you did. I didn't read the whole thing... it was all the way at the end! Bugger."

"Language!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

Then Fred smacked Ron on the back of the head. "Couldn't bother reading an entire note, could you?"

"Harriet, dear, it's quite early," Mrs. Weasley said kindly. "Now that the boys are back safely after their foolish nonsense, perhaps you should be getting back to sleep?"

"I'm not sure I could even fall asleep now," Harry replied. "A bit too much excitement, I guess."

"Well, I hadn't planned breakfast for at least an hour or so," Mrs. Weasley said thoughtfully. "Perhaps I could get started a tad early."

"I could go for some breakfast," Ron put in eagerly.

Mrs. Weasley glared at her wayward sons. "You three gave us quite a fright last night. I hardly think you should be rewarded for your misbehavior. After a quick breakfast, I think you lot should do a bit of de-gnoming."

George groaned. "Mum, that's a bit much. We were on a rescue mission, weren't we?"

"That's the only reason it's not something harsher!" She turned to Harry and smiled. "Breakfast won't be a moment. Why don't you see if Ginny is awake?"

Harry nodded. "Sure."

"Met her already, have you?" Ron asked, looking anxiously towards the kitchen. "She can be a bit of a brat, but she's all right."

Harry laughed. "She said something similar about you."

"Lucky it's just the two brats in the family," Fred chuckled, tousling Ron's hair.

"And just one prat!" George chimed in.

"And where is Precious Percy?" Fred asked in fake wonder. "Sleeping off a hard night's sleep?"

"I'd wager he read quite hard yesterday," George nodded. "Growing boy needs a bit of rest after all that."

"Too true," Fred replied sagely.

Harry grinned and walked back up to Ginny's room.

As Harry walked into the room, Ginny sat up and yawned mightily.

"Oh, mornin', Harriet. Is it time for breakfast yet?"

"Just about," replied Harry. "And your brothers are here too."

"That's good," Ginny said a bit sleepily. "Where were they?"

"Apparently they thought I needed to be rescued, so they went off to my relatives after I had already gone."

Ginny snorted. "Idiots. Let me wash up and meet you down there. I assume Mum's already given them grief over it. Do you think they might stand a bit more from me?"

Harry laughed. "I don't see why not."

He made his way back downstairs and almost instantly was overwhelmed with the magnificent smells of a hearty breakfast. Now that was more like it.

Harry hurried into the kitchen, where Ron and the twins were already seated, chomping away at their various foodstuffs.

"Wow, that smells amazing, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, please, it's nothing," Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Have a seat, have a seat. Is Ginny awake?"

"Yeah," Harry sat down and helped himself to some already-buttered toast. Ingenious, magic was sometimes. "She'll be down in a bit."

"Ah, lovely little Gin-Gin," Fred mused. "Figures you two would get along."

"A scarlet duo," George opined.

Fred shook his head. "Awful."

"So," Ron said through a mouthful of food. "How muz your fummer?"

Harry was quite used to interpreting this Ron-speech, and understood perfectly.

"Decent enough, mostly boring, except for the house-elf bit, of course. You?"

"Ih muh good," Ron answered somewhat incoherently.

"Swallow your food first!" Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Ron scowled and swallowed. "Yeah, it was fine. Boring over here too. Everybody from school was out of town it seemed."

"Hold on a tic," Fred interjected. "What's this about a house-elf?"

"It was in the letter," Ron said blithely, pouring syrup on his eggs. "Apparently some crazy house-elf was stopping the mail because it didn't want her to go back to Hogwarts."

"What?" George exclaimed. "Was it barmy?"

"Not a bad name for a house-elf," Fred nodded.

"Well, perhaps a bit," Harry allowed. "Oh, and that reminds me. Have any of you lot heard of 38 The Dormers, Highworth, Wiltshire?"

"Some treasure seeking, Harriet?" Fred inquired with a wink. "I hear you. Don't forget, we two are quite capable at finding hidden treasures. Well, I am, at least."

"Why, I am offended," George gasped dramatically. "And who found you-know-what you-know-where last year?"

Fred's narrowed. "Well played, sir. You're just lucky you're so bloody handsome, I can't stay mad."

"Fred! Watch your mouth!" Mrs. Weasley then frowned. "You know, Harriet, that address _does_ sound a tad familiar. I'll ask Mr. Weasley when he comes home, should be any minute now."

"Good morning!" Ginny bounded into the kitchen happily and snagged a seat at the table. "Where's Percy?"

Fred's jaw dropped. "Dear Merlin.. _where is Percy_?"

"Secret Prefect Breakfast Meeting," George replied.

"Ah," Fred nodded. "Well spotted."

"So, I hear you had some adventure last night, eh?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," replied Ron. "We actually took the flying car."

"No!" Ginny gasped. "It actually flew! I'm surprised Mum hasn't already killed you all."

"I'm still considered it," Mrs. Weasley muttered.

"I'm very disappointed in you," Ginny said teasingly, shaking her head dramatically. "Fred, aren't you the oldest? Not very responsible."

"Once upon a time," Fred intoned, looking at the ceiling. "A young, ebullient Ginevra Weasley was off to perform..." He then ducked as Ginny threw a roll at him.

Mrs. Weasley tossed a few sparks in the air with her wand. "Enough, you two! Ginny, don't waste food. And, Fred, you know better than to bring up that nonsense."

"What nonsense?" Harry asked.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Mrs. Weasley said reassuringly. "You know how the twins are, after all."

Harry wasn't sure he quite understood, but as he was still hungry and there was still food left, he had slightly more pressing matters to attend.

* * *

"So, what is de-gnoming, anyway?" Harry asked, as they cleaned up from breakfast.

"It's not pleasant work," Mrs. Weasley said. "And you don't need to bother worrying about it, you didn't do anything wrong."

Ron sniffed loudly.

Mrs. Weasley looked back. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Ron grumbled.

"Oh, I know!" Ginny said excitedly. "Can we go visit the Lovegoods? You know, we need to leave some time, right?"

"Ah, good point dear," her mother nodded. "Is that all right with you, Harriet?"

"Um, sure," Harry said slowly. "Who are the Lovegoods?"

Ginny grinned. "Well, actually, it's just Luna," she clarified. "A young girl my age. You'd like her. C'mon, it'll be fun!"

"Well, why not?" Harry shrugged. "You don't mind, do you Ron?"

"Nah," Ron said dismissively. "You have fun with the girls. And if you like, I'll leave a gnome for you when you get back."

Harry laughed. "I'm not sure what that means, but okay then."

He walked with Ginny for a short while, until a black, cylindrical house came into view.

"Here we are," Ginny chirped. "Watch for the dirigibles up the path."

"The what?" Harry asked.

Ginny laughed. "I rather think you'll figure it out."

Sure enough, Harry had to duck around several floating fruits as they wove through a crooked and zigzagged path. Seeing the orange fruit dart about, Harry wondered briefly if they were even edible. Maybe if you ate one, you floated?

"If her father opens the door, don't mind him," Ginny advised. "He's a tad odd." She then knocked on the door using a knocker in the shape of an eagle.

Almost instantly, a blond-haired man with a bit of a cross-eyed expression whipped open the door.

"Visitors, is it?" He asked, looking very suspicious.

"Hello, Mr. Lovegood," Ginny said in a polite tone. "We're here to see Luna, is she in?"

A short, light-haired girl peeked her head out of the door. "Oh, hello Ginny. Are you here to visit?" Harry couldn't help but notice she had slightly protuberant eyes, although it seemed to fit her in an odd sort of way.

"That's right!" Ginny beamed. "We can hang out outside if you'd prefer."

Luna turned to her father. "I'll be back later!" She then hopped outside the door and slammed it in her father's face. "Hello there!"

Harry blinked, slightly taken aback. "Hello, I'm Harry Potter."

Luna tilted her head and looked confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Luna, stop that," Ginny said, looking between them with a bit of worry. "It's Harriet Potter, you knew she might be coming by."

"Oh, that makes more sense," Luna replied with a nod and then smiled at Harry. "I thought you introduced yourself with a different name. I couldn't quite hear it correctly, though."

Something about this response piqued Harry's curiosity.

"Actually, I don't suppose..." Harry trailed off, not sure he really wanted to keep going. Well, it was worth a shot, wasn't it? "May I call you Luna?"

Luna nodded with a dreamy smile.

"Luna, I don't suppose I look like a boy, to you?"

"Harriet, what is that supposed to mean?" Ginny asked in bewilderment.

Luna stepped very close to Harry and peered at him very intently. She frowned. "No, you look like a girl to me. Ginny, does she look like a girl to you?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Harriet, if this is some odd joke, I don't care for it."

"Here's the thing," Harry barreled on, not willing to let Ginny interrupt a potential breakthrough. "I'm really a boy. I don't suppose either of you understood what I just said?"

"Huh?" Ginny did not seem to grasp the words.

"Can you repeat that?" Luna asked Harry slowly.

"I'm really a boy named Harry Potter," Harry said in a clear and distinct manner. "The Headmaster believes I'm under some sort of spell that make me appear like a girl to everyone else." He held his breath, afraid to even hope too much.

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked, scratching her head in puzzlement. "Those words don't even make sense."

Luna frowned. "You think you're a boy? And Albus Dumbledore believes you?"

"Yes!" Harry almost shouted in glee. "Most people don't even seem to hear me when I say that. But you heard me, right? What about 'Harry' - nobody can say that name either - can you say it?"

Ginny held her head and looked pained. "I can't follow anything you two are saying."

"Ha..." Luna squinted and frowned. "Rr..." She then clutched her head. "Ah!"

Harry leaped forward. "Luna, are you all right?"

"No, I can do this." Luna then tightened her face and breathed in and out deeply. "Your name is..." Her face then began to turn red.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself over this," Harry pointed out, slightly concerned.

"I am completely lost," Ginny put in. "What in the world are you two babbling about?"

Luna looked up at Ginny and then smiled. "Ginevra, don't you have that situation a bit later today?"

"Well, of course," Ginny looked back and forth between her and Harry. "But don't, you know... say anything about it."

"I won't," Luna assured her friend. "But I think your mother might need some help, and then Harr... Harr..." She stopped and shook her head. "This person and I can talk for a bit before coming by."

Ginny frowned. "You don't mind? Harriet, is that okay with you?"

"Yes, completely," Harry grinned. The idea of someone who might be able to understand that he wasn't a girl somewhat overshadowed everything else at the moment. "Do we need to be back at some point?"

"Luna knows," Ginny answered. "Right, Luna?"

"Yes, I do," replied Luna. "Right around lunchtime, correct?"

Ginny nodded. "Exactly. Okay, well, don't spoil it, and I'll see you soon! Don't be too weird, Harriet!" She winked. "See ya!" Ginny waved and ran off back towards her house.

"What were you two talking about anyway?" asked Harry.

Luna smiled mysteriously. "Oh, I don't want to spoil the surprise; you'll find out at lunchtime, won't you?"

"Hmm," Harry mused. "Does this have anything to do with those stories everyone keeps mentioning? I still have no idea what that's about."

Luna suddenly began laughing hysterically. "That is very funny! The stories! Ginevra didn't tell you anything about them! She didn't say anything at all!"

Harry frowned. "No, obviously not. I assume you know all about it, then?."

"Oh, I think I do, Hrrprr," Luna said, mangling the last few syllables. "Ginny and I wrote some stories about you and us when we were children. We even got them published!"

Harry's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

Luna nodded. "Oh yes, published in _The Quibbler_, my father's newspaper. There was quite a bit of fuss about it. My father was worried he might get fined. And then Ginevra's parents banned her from ever writing those stories again! They were furious! It was _hilarious_!"

"Um, if you say so," mumbled Harry, thinking that perhaps their definitions of "hilarious" differed slightly.

"Why, I don't know what to call you then," Luna said, suddenly frowning. "I can't say your proper non-girl name."

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore calls me Not-Harriet."

Luna giggled. "I quite like that. Not-Harriet it is, then!"

"Here's what I don't understand," Harry said worriedly. "Why is it that you can understand that I'm not a girl, even if you can't physically see it, but nobody else can? Well, except for Dumbledore."

Luna scratched her head in thought. "I'm not sure. I am certain I don't have anything close to the sorts of abilities the Headmaster has, but perhaps there is one reason."

"Go on," Harry encouraged.

"I find it quite easy to believe in things others don't," Luna explained with a wide smile. "I suppose it's just my nature. And I will figure out how to say your name someday, I promise."

Harry couldn't help but smile back at Luna's infectious enthusiasm. "If only you could teach others the same perspective."

"But then I wouldn't be as interesting, would I?" Luna teased, wagging her finger in front of Harry's face.

Harry laughed. "Oh, I don't know about that."

Luna checked her watch. "We should probably head back to the Weasleys soon. Then all of your questions will be answered."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Quite a promise. Sure you can hold to it?'

"Of course," Luna replied airily. "Have I ever disappointed you?"

"Well, we're still fairly young," Harry teased back. "There's still plenty of time."

Luna merely smiled at this.

* * *

"I think this is all just so _fascinating_," Luna enthused as they walked up to the Weasley's home. "Trying to determine what other people actually hear when you say certain things related to your curse. Ginevra seemed quite out of sorts."

Harry nodded. "Not that unusual, unfortunately. I'm a bit used to it by now."

"But wait a moment!" Luna gasped. "If everyone sees you as a girl, just as I do, weren't you staying in the girls' dorm at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Harry grimaced. "And mind you, that wasn't exactly the most comfortable experience at first. But like everything else, I've slowly grown more used to the various minor annoyances associated with everyone seeing me as a girl. Like pretending they all say 'Harry', instead of 'Harriet'."

"Ah, of course," Luna smiled. "Personally, I can't _wait_ for Hogwarts. I've got my letter already, and we're going to pick up my wand this week. It'll be the greatest time, don't you think?"

Harry chuckled. "Well, I certainly like it. I'm sure you will too. Any idea of which house you'll be in?"

"Hmm, a very good question," Luna replied thoughtfully. "I'd imagine Ginevra would be in Gryffindor, naturally, but I'm not sure that's the ideal place for me. Perhaps Ravenclaw? I do enjoy riddles and puzzles."

"I'm sure you'd do well wherever you end up," Harry assured her. "You seem pretty darn smart to me."

Luna beamed at him. "Thank you, Not-Harriet. I wonder if you'd be so nice if you were really a girl."

Harry laughed. "I have no idea on that one."

"Oi!"

Harry glanced up to see Ron waving at him from the Weasley's front lawn.

"Harriet, over here!" Ron grinned and nodded to Luna. "Hi, you're Ginny's friend, right?"

"Yes, I am Luna Lovegood," Luna replied happily. "And you must be Ronald Weasley."

"Um, yes, good guess," Ron chuckled in a slightly nervous manner, scratching the back of his head. "Harriet, check out this little blighter over here. It's a gnome!"

Harry peered down to see a small, potato-shaped creature with stubby arms and legs. It grumbled audibly and kicked at the ground.

Luna jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "Ooh, it's a blessing to have gnomes in your garden! My father always says so."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Ron replied. "My mum doesn't care for 'em though, so we gotta de-gnome the yard every so often. Although it's funny, my dad kinda likes them too."

"How do you get rid of them?" Harry asked.

"The best way is to grab them, spin 'em around until they get dizzy, then throw it out of the yard. It'll be too dizzy to find its way back."

Harry frowned. "Doesn't that hurt them?"

Ron laughed. "Nah, it's real hard to hurt gnomes. It doesn't kill them, just makes it harder for them to come back. Although they always do, unless you use a Jarvey or something - but nobody does that anymore."

Luna bent down and waved at the gnome. "Hello, blessed nuisance!"

"You want a go, Harriet?" Ron asked. "I saved this one for you."

"Um, well, all right." Harry couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for the gnomes, and decided just to drop it over the hedge. But the gnome, sensing weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry's finger.

Harry spun around, trying to get it off, when finally he managed to fling it away.

"Goodbye!" Luna waved.

Ron whistled. "Wow, Harriet — that must've been fifty feet…" He turned to Harry and grinned. "All that exercise make you feel up for a spot of lunch?"

Harry laughed. "For once I'm glad you're thinking with your stomach."

"Oi!" Ron yelped, looking offended. "I can't help I'm a growing boy."

"I dunno," Harry mused. "Aren't you tall enough already?"

"A good point, Not-Harriet," Luna chimed in. "Any taller, and he might attract Wrackspurts."

"There you go," Harry nodded with a grin. "So stop growing this instant."

Ron shook his head and held open the door for Harry, who quickly walked inside.

"Surprise!"

Harry stopped short in shock. All of the Weasleys he had already met were there, as well as an older red-haired man that must have been Mr. Weasley. And some of his Hogwarts friends were there like Neville Longbottom and the Patil twins.

Instantly, Parvati rushed over and hugged Harry tightly.

"Happy Birthday, Harriet! Oh, it is _so_ good to see you again!" Parvati gushed. "It has been the most _boring_ summer imaginable. "

"Birthday?" Harry repeated. "Oh, is _that _what all this nonsense is about?"

"Obviously," Ron chuckled. "Like we'd forget about your birthday. Or like you could stop my mum from throwing a party for you once she had the chance."

"Well, I didn't expect anything like this," Harry mumbled, a bit embarrassed at the attention. "I never really had anything like this before."

"Your relatives never had a party for you?" Parvati asked in a scandalized tone.

Harry shook his head. "I doubt they even remembered most years."

"Bloody muggles," Ron muttered angrily.

The older red-haired man had walked over with a wide smile and held out his hand. "Hello, Miss Potter. Arthur Weasley, honored to have you in our home." He had a very warm, friendly manner about him that Harry instantly found very pleasant.

Harry accepted the handshake with a smile of his own. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. Your family has all been great, and you have a fantastic house."

Mr. Weasley looked quite pleased at the comments. "Oh, think nothing of it, my dear. You are welcome here any time. Now, please, enjoy yourself! And don't forget to have a big slice of cake - Molly made it, and although it's always amazing, she's worried you won't like it."

Harry laughed. "Well, I'll be sure to mention that it's the very best cake I've ever had. And it'll probably be true, too."

Mr. Weasley grinned and nodded. "Good girl."

"Hello, Harriet," Neville said a bit softly, holding out a hand.

"How are you doing, Neville?" Harry replied boisterously, shaking Neville's hand in a brisk manner. "Good summer, have you?"

Neville shrugged. "I guess. Bit boring, I suppose."

Parvati giggled. "It figures that only Harriet would have the crazy adventures with letters and house elves."

"Ah, so you got my note explaining it?" Harry asked.

Parvati nodded. "Yes, quite a bizarre tale. We don't have any house elves at home, but I've never heard of one acting that way."

"We have one," Neville said shyly. "But I'm not supposed to ask him for anything."

"That's not fair!" Ron sputtered. "If I had a house elf, I'd ask for things all the time!"

"Like Mum would let you!" Ginny said, walking over to them. "Sorry for leaving you, Harriet, but I hope you liked the surprise."

"I did," Harry grinned. "And Luna and I had a nice walk back."

Luna nodded. "It was a marvelous waste of time!"

"Oh, that nearly reminds me," said Parvati. "You missed the big argument about house elves."

"What's to argue about?" Harry asked. "Unless... uh oh. What did you tell Hermione?"

Parvati sighed. "Well, I'm not exactly an expert on it. You know, Neville," she glared at the suddenly nervous boy. "I didn't know you had a house elf! You could have helped out when Hermione was yelling at us!"

"I didn't know what to say," Neville answered with a cringe. "Hermione kinda scares me like that."

Ron laughed. "I can't blame you for that one, mate."

Suddenly, the sound of a throat clearing caused most of the group to jump back.

"Potter, have you spoken with Granger this summer?" Padma asked Harry.

"Um, no," Harry replied, still a bit taken aback. "Except in letters, of course."

"Well," Ron started to say, then looked as if he immediately regretted speaking. He sighed and shook his head. "Hermione said that she'd owl us when she was planning to be in Diagon Alley. We can probably meet up then."

Parvati nodded. "Yeah, I got that note too. Lavender said something similar, as well." She beamed. "It'll be nice to have the whole Trapdoor gang together again."

"The 'Trapdoor gang'?" Harry repeated with a laugh, helping himself to a generous piece of birthday cake. "Oh, is that what we're calling ourselves, now?"

"Ah, I forgot," said Ron. "We started using that just after you left. Has a nice ring to it, don't it?"

"What's this about a gang?" Ginny asked curiously. "Does this have something to do with your mad adventures last year?"

"You could say that," Harry replied mysteriously. "Perhaps you'll find out more when you come to Hogwarts."

Ginny pouted. "That's mean, Harriet."

Luna laughed suddenly. "Yes, and very amusing too!"

Parvati blinked in surprise. "Oh, I don't believe we've met," she said. "I'm Parvati Patil, and this my sister, Padma."

"Hello," Luna smiled at them. "I'm Luna Lovegood. I live down the road."

"Ah, neighbors!" Parvati smiled. "Lovegood, did you say? Are you related to that bloke who does _The Quibbler_?"

"That's my father!" Luna answered. "And sometimes he lets me write articles for the paper!"

"Isn't that paper mostly about unsubstantiated rumors and hearsay?" Padma asked.

"No," Luna retorted. "It doesn't sound like you've even read it."

"I have not," Padma agreed. "Is it a worthwhile endeavor?"

"Oh, certainly," replied Luna. "We are strong proponents of the investigative method of journalism."

Padma blinked. "I see. And how does that differ from other methods of journalism?"

Luna grinned. "Why, that's an excellent question!"

Ron whispered to the others. "Why do I suddenly have a terrible feeling about this?"

Parvati groaned. "Like we needed another one."

* * *

Harry continued to enjoy himself at his very first own birthday party, including being quite surprised by several gifts. Although perhaps he should have expected it by that point.

But the good times finally came to an end, and it was time for Harry to leave.

An older man, with dark features and a serious expression had appeared as the sun began to set.

"Oh, it's Father!" Parvati pulled slightly at Harry's arm. "I must introduce you. I'm thrilled you're staying with us, of course, but Father can be a bit intimidating at times. Don't let it worry you."

Harry nodded and walked with Parvati over to her father.

"Good evening, Father," said Parvati. "May I introduce you to Miss Harriet Potter?"

Mr. Patil nodded his head slightly. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Harriet Potter. We are honored that you will stay at our home for the remainder of the summer. Has Parvati reviewed the house rules with you?"

"Um, not yet, Father," Parvati interjected. "I will go over them now before we leave."

Mr. Patil nodded again. "Very good. I will be waiting by the Floo once I have collected your sister. She hasn't been a nuisance, has she?"

Parvati shook her head. "No, there was no problem at all."

With yet another nod, Mr. Patil walked off in search of Padma.

"Okay," Harry managed to say. "You were right. He is just a _bit_ intimidating."

Parvati giggled. "Don't worry about it. You'll be a guest, after all. But I suppose I should quickly review the house rules so you don't make a mistake. They won't yell at you or anything, but I'll certainly hear about it if I forget something."

Harry blanched. "Well, I don't want that. I'll be on my best behavior, I promise."

"I'm not worried, Harriet," Parvati assured him. "You're hardly a troublemaker. Here's what you need to know. Call my parents Mr. Patil and Mrs. Patil, never anything else. Not even sir or ma'am, that would be considered too formal. Try to avoid using your left hand for anything important, and be sure to remove your shoes when you enter the house. When we get home, I'll show you the rooms we're permitted to enter, and the permissible hours for everything."

"I think I get it," Harry frowned. "Mr. or Mrs. only, avoid left hand stuff, take off shoes, stay out of rooms unless I know, and the rest you'll let me know."

Parvati nodded with a smile. "You've got it!"

Mr. Patil walked over with Padma and looked at the two of them. "It is time to depart. Your mother has the evening meal waiting for us."

"May we say goodbye to our friends?" Parvati asked.

"You may," responded Mr. Patil.

Harry quickly walked with Parvati over to the others.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, it has been a pleasure," Harry told them with a grin. "And all the food was fantastic, I must add. Will you be coming to Diagon Alley when we all meet up there later?"

"I believe so," Mr. Weasley replied. "Molly and I usually take the whole family to Diagon Alley for school supplies once each summer, so we shall see you there!"

"Great!" Harry smiled. "Ron, Neville, nice seeing you guys. Don't forget to write!"

"I won't," Neville assured him with a small smile. "It's been good seeing everyone again."

"I hope you had a good time," Ron said. "I know Mum and Dad were happy to meet you."

Harry nodded. "It was great. Oh, where are Ginny and Luna?"

"Over here!" Ginny called out, then ran over and gave Harry a hug. "It was brilliant meeting you. I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts?"

"Actually, we'll all be meeting up in Diagon Alley later," Harry explained. "I'll see you then, I'm sure."

Ginny grinned. "That sounds great!"

"I hope you enjoy yourself," Luna then said a bit solemnly.

"As you too, Luna," Harry returned in an equally solemn tone, although he couldn't stop his mouth from quirking up a bit. "See you later, everyone."

As they walked away, Harry realized he wasn't precisely sure how he was going to get to the Patil home.

"Um, Parvati," he whispered. "How exactly are we getting to your family's house?"

"The Floo, of course," she replied.

"Of course," Harry repeated. "Um, what is the Floo again?"

Parvati laughed and shook her head. "Oh, I always forget you grew up with Muggles. The Floo is what we use to travel between places. It's simple to use, just toss some Floo powder into a registered hearth, then clearly say where you want to go and step through. Easy."

"If you say so," Harry mumbled nervously. Stepping through fire didn't sound altogether that simple.

Although sure enough, Mr. Patil had thrown something in the Weasley's fireplace, which had turned a bright green color.

Padma stepped up to the fire and called out "679 Canton". Without another word, she stepped into the fire, causing Harry to flinch instinctively. But Padma vanished without a trace.

"See, Harriet," Parvati prodded him. "Nothing to it. You can go next, just say the same address."

"Right," Harry nodded nervously and stepped up to the fire. Suddenly he recalled something he had nearly forgotten. "Oh, before I go, can you ask Mr. Weasley about 38 The Dormers?" Suddenly Harry breathed in some smoke from the hearth and coughed so hard, he tripped into the fire.

He held up his hands to protect his face, but instead of the scalding he expected, Harry found himself tumbling through what felt like a giant spinning drain, with bright green flames bursting all around him.

And then he tumbled out of a fireplace into a room with a stone floor and walls. Harry looked around, feeling quite foolish. The fire continued to burn behind him, although it didn't seem quite as green as it had a moment earlier.

"Hmm, I need some sort of powder, don't I?"

"What is Harriet Potter doing in the holding room?"

The shrill voice caused a chill to go down Harry's back. He turned to face an old friend.

"Oh, hello, Dobby," Harry said to the surprised house elf. "Um, I think I came here by accident."

"Harriet Potter should not be here," Dobby informed him. "This is a dangerous place, this is the room for holding gifts."

Harry winced. "Ah, well I didn't intend to come here." He looked around the room and frowned. "Hey, there's no door here."

Dobby shook his head. "No, the room is only for special business. Harriet must leave immediately."

"Well, I'd love to, Dobby," Harry shrugged with a nervous grin. "But I think I need some Floo powder."

"Dobby will get it," the house elf replied with a frown. "Harriet Potter should know better! Dobby will be right back."

After the house elf had vanished with a pop, Harry leaned against the stone wall and sighed.

"Harry Potter should definitely have known better."

* * *

_Next time, Harry gets a bit more than he bargained for._

"_Wondrous to meet you, my dear," the irritating ponce said. "I'm Gilderoy Lockhart."_

"_I know," Harry replied acidly. "Your face is everywhere I look."_


	11. 11: A Trip and a Trap

**I know it's been a while - but I've been both busy with other stories I've released in the meantime and being struck with various RL issues.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**Have you heard the tale told of the beta - Or Perhaps HeThatFindsProblems? No? Well, check Wikipedia, it's in there somewhere.**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: A TRIP AND A TRAP**

Harry paced around the small room, waited impatiently for Dobby to return. Although if he admitted to himself, it was really his own fault for calling out the unknown gift address.

After a few interminable minutes, the house elf finally returned, carrying a tin of some sort. He looked over at Harry and shook his head.

"Does Harriet Potter know where she plans to go?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I just accidentally said the wrong name. No harm done."

Dobby sighed and gave Harry the tin of Floo powder. "Harriet Potter must be more careful and even more careful at Hogwarts! There is great danger planned."

"I know!" Harry said a bit peevishly. "I'll be keeping an eye out, all right? And besides..." Harry managed a sly grin. "You'll be around to warn me without disobeying your family, right?"

Dobby nodded his head frantically. "Yes, Dobby will need to be here most of the time, but he will come to Hogwarts as often as possible."

"Right then," Harry turned to the fire and took out a pinch of Floo powder. "I think that's all he used." He tossed the powder into the fire, which instantly turned the familiar green color. Harry cautiously felt for any remaining heat, but it seemed to be working, as the heat was gone.

Harry paused a moment, trying to recall precisely which address it was... something on Canton Street, wasn't it? Yes, that sounded right.

"697 Canton Street!" Harry made sure to enunciate clearly, and then turned to wave at Dobby, who seemed about to cry in happiness and relief. After that bit of awkwardness, Harry stepped through the fire.

Once again, he found himself spinning through flames and then summarily ejected into an unfamiliar, albeit somewhat nice room. A sort of generic room, with hard wooden floors and sturdy-looking furniture.

And then Harry realized that someone was sitting on one of the chairs. A blond, bespectacled boy, reading a book - Harry thought he was one of the Ravenclaws in his year, but he couldn't quite remember his name.

The boy looked up at the commotion and almost jumped up in shock.

"Harriet Potter? What are you doing here?"

Harry groaned and got to his feet, still a bit dizzy after the Floo travel. "I think I made a mistake. I was trying to get to the Patils."

The boy blinked. "Oh, I see what you mean. We're 697, but the Patils are at 679. They're down the street - I can walk you there, if you like."

Harry brightened and nodded. "Sure, that would be great!"

"Come on then!" The boy put down his book and led Harry through a few rooms to the front door.

"Is anyone else home?" Harry asked.

"My dad's somewhere around," the boy said. "He does a lot of research stuff from home. My Mum's at work, though." He opened the door and waited for Harry to go first.

Harry chuckled a bit to himself. Many times at Hogwarts people would open doors for him because they thought he was a girl - a bit that wasn't so bad, in the grand scheme of things.

As they walked down the street, Harry began to feel a bit embarrassed at his inability to remember the boy's name.

"Listen," he said slowly. "I don't want to offend you, but I can't quite recall your name."

"Oh!" The boy look surprised. "I suppose perhaps I shouldn't be all that shocked. Although we do have some classes together, I don't think we've ever worked in a group. I'm Anthony Goldstein." He held out his hand to Harry, who was only too happy not to deal with something more awkward.

"Sorry, Anthony," Harry apologized. "I guess I don't really talk to many people outside my study group."

Anthony chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, everyone knows about that. Six Gryffindors and one Ravenclaw. I think some people were offended that they weren't asked to join."

Harry scowled. "Well, that's silly. I mean, it kinda just grew naturally. Padma only joined because Parvati's in Gryffindor."

"Makes sense," Anthony shrugged. "To be honest, a lot of people were glad." He bit his lip, looking like he hadn't meant to say that.

"I know a lot of people don't like Padma," Harry told him. "Personally, I don't mind her little quirks, but I have heard she didn't get along with you Ravenclaws."

Anthony sighed. "It's a complicated thing. I don't have a problem with Padma, but she can be a bit abrasive at times. Most Ravenclaws love a good debate, but Padma invariably gets awfully personal. And then other people respond with personal attacks against her... well, you can imagine how that ends up."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I do. It's funny, because I think Hermione doesn't even notice anything personal like that when those two are going at it - and they do, all the time. Usually, she's too busy being highly offended by the actual content of Padma's arguments."

Anthony laughed. "That sounds like a lot of fun to hear. I'd have trouble not joining in, though."

"Most of us barely understand what they talk about though," Harry admitted with a grin. "Although maybe you're different, being in Ravenclaw and all."

"You shouldn't stereotype like that," Anthony said a bit teasingly. "Just because I'm in Ravenclaw doesn't mean I'm crazy smart." He paused and then smiled. "It's just a coincidence."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that. "I see that modesty isn't the strong suit of Ravenclaw in the least."

"Never that," Anthony replied with a chuckle. "We do have a lot of smart folk, but it's more about where your priorities are, really. We're more the type to want to understand how something works far more than actually trying to get it to work, if you follow."

Harry nodded. "I do, actually. I think Ron - he's in Gryffindor with me - once said something like that about the differences between the two houses."

Anthony nodded. "Sure. And I know who Ron Weasley is, of course. Everyone knows about your study group, after all."

"Really?" Harry grimaced. "Is this just another stupid thing because of the Boy-Who-Lived nonsense?"

"Partially," Anthony admitted. "You have to admit, except maybe for Dumbledore, you are the most famous person at Hogwarts. Even if people don't know you personally, they're curious about you. And there are all sorts of rumors about what happened between you and Professor Quirrell last year."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I can imagine. It's a complicated story, but just to make sure there are fewer rumors out there, let's just say it involved You-Know-Who trying to steal something valuable. She was possessing Quirrell, and after she lost, she fled, abandoning the Professor for dead."

Anthony goggled slightly. "That's worse than anything I heard! I mean, some people said you had killed Quirrell in self-defense, but that's about as bad as it got."

Harry grimaced. "To be honest, I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

"Oh, right," Anthony nodded quickly. "Makes perfect sense, of course. Sorry for bringing it up."

"That's fine," Harry said in a somewhat distant tone. "I just prefer not to discuss that stuff." He paused and looked at the house numbers. "It looks like we're almost there. Are there a lot of magical families around here?"

"Actually, this street is almost entirely magical," Anthony replied. "The neighborhood isn't, but this stretch has no Muggles at all."

Harry smirked as he looked at the line of houses. "Kind a change from what I'm used to. Are there any other families I might know, I mean, other than the Patils?"

"Probably," said Anthony. "I think there's probably twenty or so kids in Hogwarts right now that leave near here. But nobody else from our year."

"Right," Harry replied. "I guess I don't really know much about the older kids. But what about you? Did you grow up around here?"

Anthony nodded. "Yeah, same house in fact. I used to come down here all the time..." The blond boy stopped talking and cleared his throat. "Never mind, that part's not important."

"Oh?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Something you don't want to talk about? I can't imagine what _that's _like."

Anthony laughed. "Well, it's not so bad, I suppose. The only kids my year on the street were the Patils, so we used to play together as children. But..." He ducked his head and looked embarrassed. "It's silly, really."

Harry shrugged. "Whatever you feel comfortable with. I'd be a bad sort if I insisted you talk about that after I said I didn't want to go on about Quirrell."

"Yeah," answered Anthony with a long sigh. "It's just been a while, you know? Maybe it'd feel good to finally talk about it."

"If that's what you'd like," said Harry warily. He hoped it wouldn't be _that_ embarrassing.

"I said before that I didn't have a problem with Padma, unlike a lot of Ravenclaw," Anthony started. "But when we were kids, we were pretty good friends. I was shy and kind of introverted, and Padma didn't like talking to most people. It was fine for a while until we decided to get married."

Harry stumbled a bit, before quickly getting back his balance. "I'm sorry - did you just say you got married?"

"Not for real!" Anthony clarified hurriedly. "We were only eight or so. Kid stuff, you know, playing around, emulating adults."

"Well, good," Harry said with a chuckle. "I was about to say that wizarding culture was quite a bit more backwards than I had realized."

Anthony nodded a bit sadly. "There's some truth there. It didn't matter that we were just kids, our parents - both mine and the Patils - were furious." He sighed and looked down at the ground. "It was a lot of 'not their kind' nonsense, not that I really understood that at the time."

"Wait a minute." Harry felt a bit confused. "Aren't you both pure-bloods?"

"Yeah, but that wasn't the issue," Anthony explained. "It's a background thing. I mean, it's weird; neither of our families are that religious, but suddenly it's all about 'protecting our heritage'."

"Um." Harry wasn't sure he had anything substantive to add.

"So that's it," Anthony said and stopped walking. "And it looks like we're here. I guess I'll see you back at Hogwarts, then?"

Harry frowned, feeling a bit bad for the Ravenclaw boy. "Are you sure you don't want to come in just to say hi?"

Anthony shook his head. "I'd better not. The Patils wouldn't be happy to see me. They still pretend not to see me in public, although my parents aren't any better."

"Well, if you say so," Harry said and held out his hand. "See you later then. Maybe Diagon Alley, but if not, there's always the Express."

"Very true," Anthony replied, shaking Harry's hand with a smile. "Have a good summer." He nodded once and started to walk back down the street towards his own house.

Harry took a deep breath and walked up to the Patils' front door, hoping they hadn't been too worried. And if they had... well, not much to do it about it now. He knocked loudly, and before he he had even pulled back his hand, the door swung open.

"Harriet!" Parvati shrieked. "Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you."

"Um, I accidentally went to 697 instead of here," Harry explained, fairly embarrassed by the mistake. "May I come in?"

"Of course!" Parvati stepped aside to let Harry enter. "Oh, don't forget to take off your shoes and leave them by the door next to the others."

Harry nodded. "Right, of course. And no left-handed business."

Parvati giggled. "I don't think I've ever heard it put that way. But yes, that's right. Let me just show you around; some rooms are off limits for us, depending on how late it is." She walked with Harry down the hall, passing by some interesting paintings and sculptures.

"Have you always lived in this house?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yes." Parvati nodded. "It's an old family home. Not that big, but it suits us. So obviously you can use the lavatory any time, even at night. Those rooms at the end of the hall are for my parents, so of course you can't go in unless you're invited." She grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him down another hallway. "That room on the right is our bedroom, but I'll show you that later. Um, the library is that other room over there, but first things first. You're late for dinner!"

"Oh!" Harry blinked and felt slightly embarrassed. "Yes, sorry about that."

Parvati halted and Harry stopped walking behind her. She had brought them to a sort of sitting room, where Padma and Mr. Patil sat, next to an older, pleasant looking lady who was clearly Mrs. Patil.

"Mother, Father, Harriet Potter is here."

Mr. Patil looked up from the book he was reading. "Oh, so she is. What was the problem?"

"I accidentally said the wrong number," Harry explained. "I was down the street - but um, they were nice enough to show me where you lived."

"A mistake, you say?" Mr. Patil asked.

"It was my first time with using the Floo," explained Harry.

Mr. Patil nodded. "Interesting. I had assumed you were already familiar, but I had forgotten you grew up with Muggles."

Harry was a bit surprised by this response. "You know about that?"

"Oh, I've talked a bit about you," Parvati explained hastily. She leaned over and whispered, "Nothing too private, naturally."

Harry grinned. "Naturally."

Mr. and Mrs. Patil stood up at almost the same time, in a way that almost seemed rehearsed - although for all Harry knew, perhaps it had been.

Mrs. Patil looked over at Harry and frowned. "Have you eaten yet, Miss Potter?"

"No, not at all," Harry answered, shaking his head.

"We have waited in case you had been delayed," Mrs. Patil told him. "Now we can all dine at the same time."

Harry smiled. "Great! Thanks a lot."

"Padma," Mr. Patil said a bit harshly. "Put down that book and come to dinner."

Padma looked up with a surprised expression on her face. It was subtle, but Harry had gotten fairly good at interpreting Padma's way of expressing herself.

"Oh, Harriet Potter is here." Padma looked closely at Harry. "Why were you delayed?"

Parvati huffed impatiently. "If you'd been paying attention, you'd know. Now come on, I'm starving!"

Dinner at the Patils was a subdued, but fairly pleasant affair. Growing up where he did, Harry supposed he ought to have been familiar with the food, but the Dursleys had never held much stock in "that ruddy foreign slop". But Harry found everything, for the most part, quite excellent, if a tad unusual to his palate.

"May I ask you a question, Miss Potter?" Mrs. Patil asked suddenly, causing Harry to choke a bit on some food, although he managed to clear his throat right away.

"Um, yes," he said in a slightly strained voice. "Of course."

"Parvati has told us that you are friends with Padma. Is that true?"

"Well, yes," Harry said, a bit taken aback. "We have a study group that she's a part of. Everyone else is a Gryffindor, but that's not a big deal. We get along together okay."

Mrs. Patil tapped her finger on the table, looking a bit thoughtful. "And what about this 'Granger' I've heard so much about?"

Parvati sniffed, and Harry saw her hiding a smile.

"I'm sure you're talking about Hermione Granger," Harry said with a smile of his own. "She and Padma get into some pretty spirited debates. I'll be honest, it goes over most of the rest of our heads."

"How do you mean?" Mr. Patil asked.

Harry shrugged. "Padma and Hermione are the smartest in the group - by far. But that doesn't mean they always agree, of course."

Parvati snickered softly. "No, not at all."

Mrs. Patil turned to her other daughter. "Padma, does that accurately represent the situation?"

Padma nodded. "Yes, I believe so. Ronald Weasley often mentions that we are obviously demarcated by our house affiliations based on our ethical and pecuniary leanings. It is a promising theory."

Harry leaned over and whispered to Parvati, "I don't believe I've ever heard Ron be quite that eloquent."

Parvati giggled into her hand. "Um, yes," she said aloud. "Ron likes to say that kind of thing all the time. Similar words, too."

Harry was glad he was drinking from a glass of water, otherwise he probably would have laughed aloud.

* * *

It didn't take long for Harry to settle into an easy routine at the Patil house. Both Mr. and Mrs. Patil worked during the day, so Harry and the twins were left to entertain themselves. Padma tended to spend most of her time in the library, not that this was much of a surprise to Harry, who actually didn't mind reading a bit when it wasn't about schoolwork.

In contrast, Parvati had several days worth of discussion that she simply had to talk about. It didn't take long for Harry to develop an advanced skill in acting as though he were paying attention. Mostly it involved a great deal of nodding and making supportive noises. After that, Parvati decided to give Harry a tour of the neighborhood, which was something he had been interested in, but the sheer amount of information began to overwhelm him.

Part of this was due to Harry's upbringing: he barely knew the neighbors on Privet Drive aside from the limited friends of his relatives - and even for those, he usually was not "permitted" to show his face when they visited. He had never really bothered trying to remember names and addresses before, and was spending most of his mental energy making sure he still could recall the Patil's house number.

The only time Harry ever spoke to the elder Patils was at meals, and even then, he always felt as though he were offending them in some way. Parvati would always assure him later that he had done nothing wrong, and ask why he was acting so shy anyway. Harry never really had an answer for that.

After a few days, Harry decided he would broach the subject of the acrimony between the Patils and Goldsteins, although he had to wait for just the right opportunity. He didn't think Parvati would be offended, as they had discussed sensitive matters before, and Padma - well, Harry wasn't really sure what could actually offend her.

The seemingly right moment came one day when they were all reading in the library - Parvati was reading the _Quibbler_, which they had all begun reading after Luna's enthusiastic endorsement. Harry was never quite sure what was true when reading the odd paper, although the twins had rather different ways of looking at it.

"Oh my word!" Parvati exclaimed suddenly as Harry waited for the right time to ask his questions. "Harriet, Padma, you read this edition, right?"

"Yeah," answered Harry. "We both did. Which story has got you so excited?"

Parvati looked back at Harry with a wicked grin. "It says that the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister is secretly a man Polyjuiced as a woman in a secret trick to seduce the Minister into an affair. That's disgusting!"

"I believe it," Padma said from behind her book. "Madame Umbridge has been the Senior Undersecretary for a short while, but she is already on the Wizengamot. It's clear that "she" is really a man in disguise. Why else would she she support banning marriage to werewolves?"

"I don't follow," Harry said in confusion.

"Neither do I," Parvati put in. "But have you seen her photo? She's ugly enough to be a man in disguise."

Padma sighed. "I don't have time to explain the logic. It's obvious. Granger would have understood."

"Probably," grumbled Parvati.

"Wait a minute," Harry said slowly. "What was that you said about some sort of juice?"

"Hmm?" Parvati looked back at him in confusion. "I didn't say anything about juice."

"Yes, you did," Padma informed her with a slight tone of annoyance. "You mentioned Polyjuice."

"Oh, yeah!" Harry nodded. "I saw that in the article, but I didn't know what it meant. On the other hand, I never really know what's true, so I didn't know if it was a real thing."

Parvati snickered. "Oh, it's real. It's an advanced kind of Potion that lets you change your shape into someone else. I'm not even sure if it's on the Hogwarts curriculum. Padma?"

"What?" Padma responded a bit acidly.

"Is it on the Hogwarts curriculum?"

"I don't know the entirety of the Potions curriculum," Padma replied curtly. "Maybe you should look it up yourself instead of always asking me."

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Don't be so sensitive."

"That reminds me of something," Harry cut in, realizing this would be a good way to relieve the tension. "You remember how I was at the wrong house before I came here?"

"Of course," Parvati nodded. "Although I don't recall which one it was."

"It was number 697," Harry explained carefully, watching for any reaction. "A boy there, Anthony Goldstein, he walked me to your house."

"Oh," Parvati said simply and sighed. "Yes, I don't think I realized which one you said at the time. Um, did you two talk about anything?"

"Actually," replied Harry. "We did."

"You spoke to Anthony?" Padma actually looked up from her book. "Why?"

Harry shrugged. "We were walking over here, so we talked a bit about a couple of things. Um, like how you guys used to be friends."

"That was a long time ago," said Parvati. "There was a bit of a falling out between the parents."

"So he said," agreed Harry. "Something about him and Padma pretending to be married?"

Parvati smirked. "Oh, you heard about that? Merlin, but Mother and Father were _furious_. I didn't understand it at all at the time; to be honest, I haven't even thought about it for years."

Harry looked back and forth between the twins. "He seemed like a nice guy," he said. "And apparently he's in Ravenclaw - have you talked to him at school, Padma?"

Padma shook her head. "No. I don't really like speaking with the other Ravenclaws. Although I haven't tried speaking with Anthony since our parents forbade it several years ago."

"What?" Harry asked incredulously. "They _forbade _you to even talk to him?"

"Yeah," Parvati said with a nod. "But you know, parents and all that. They can get overprotective at times."

Harry suddenly had a small idea - although he wasn't sure if it'd work. "Well, I'm sure that doesn't apply to Hogwarts. Really, Padma, you should try talking to him. Maybe you could even invite him to the study group."

Padma frowned and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "All right," she said finally. "Perhaps I will."

Parvati seemed quite taken aback, and then she walked over to where Harry was sitting. "What was that about?" She whispered. "What's going on?"

Harry shrugged and smiled slightly. "Maybe I just believe in true love."

Parvati laughed and smacked Harry lightly on the shoulder. "You clever little minx. What about Hermione? Won't she be heartbroken?"

"I'm sure we can think of something," Harry said lightly with a laugh.

This little exchange had led to a series of little jokes Parvati began making, even at meals - although then it was even more subtle - usually.

"Mother, I _love_ this dal," Parvati enthused at one point. "_Truly_."

"I'm glad you like it," her mother said in slight confusion.

"What about you, Harriet?" Parvati asked with a sly grin. "Fancy matching this with something? You're good at that sort of thing."

"Yes, I am," Harry responded with a small grin. "I think that the rice is looking a bit lonely. _Truly_, it deserves some companionship."

Parvati coughed to hide her obvious laugh in reply.

"What are you two talking about?" Mr. Patil asked, looking at his plate. "Is there something wrong with the rice?"

"No!" Parvati said hurriedly. "It's great, of course. Harriet was just saying it goes smashingly with the dal, right, Harriet?"

Harry nodded. "That is exactly what I meant. _Truly_." After that, it seemed they both had to work on their subtlety a bit.

* * *

A few days later, Harry was awoken by a sudden shriek, only to realize he was the last to wake up. A bit bleary eyed, he stumbled to the kitchen, where the Patils had already started breakfast.

"Look, Harriet!" Parvati held an envelope. "Letters from Hogwarts! They're here! And yours is too!"

"Oh," said Harry simply. "I thought that you were screaming because of something bad."

Parvati giggled. "Don't be silly, Harriet. Come on, let's open them!"

Sure enough, the envelope was indeed addressed to him, although in an interesting manner:

"_Miss" H Potter_

_The "Girls'" Room_

_679 Canton Street_

Harry snorted softly, thinking that perhaps Professor Dumbledore was to blame for this wry bit of humor. He quickly opened up the envelope and pulled out the letter. It was much the same as the previous year, albeit with a new set of books to obtain.

"Hmm," Harry mused. "There sure are a lot of books by this 'Lockhart' person."

"I know!" Parvati grinned back at him. "It must be his entire collection of adventure books. But maybe some of them are more advanced than second years... oh, I bet I know why. They must be setting us up for the next few years!"

"You sound like you've heard of him. Have you read any of his books?" Harry asked.

Parvati nodded eagerly. "Yes, I read a lot of _Voyages with Vampires_. It wasn't really a textbook though, more like a travelogue. You know, filled with his exciting adventures."

"Really?" Harry blinked. "So this guy is pretty talented?"

"Oh, definitely," Parvati enthused. "He's like the most famous explorer around. Traveling to exotic places, fighting dangerous monsters." Then she sighed. "Unfortunately I borrowed my copy from Lavender, otherwise I'd show it to you." Parvati giggled slightly. "Wait until you see his picture on the books! He's very handsome."

Harry frowned, not exactly interested in this aspect of Lockhart. "Uh huh. I'll take your word for it. Besides, what's important is that he knows what he's doing, right?"

Parvati nodded. "Well said, Harriet."

"So do you think he'll be teaching us this year?" Harry asked.

"No," scoffed Parvati. "He's got more interesting things to do, I'm certain. Although wouldn't that be _astounding_?" She began to giggle again.

"Right..." Harry drawled and turned to the other twin, who had started writing notes on her letter. "Padma, have you heard of this Lockhart guy?"

"Yes," Padma said. "But I have not read any of his books. They are too expensive considering their potential content. I could buy five similar books for the same price."

"Whoa..." Harry looked back at his book list. "Wait, are all of these books expensive? There's like seven of them."

Parvati shrugged. "Well, you can get them secondhand if you want. Actually, we probably will. I won't complain; getting the books at all is great. I don't want to complain to Mother and Father about not getting a brand new one if I get them at all."

Harry nodded. "A good point. Although it's not like I have anything else to spend money on."

"Well," Parvati started to say, then trailed off and looked back down at her letter.

"Oh stop that," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "You clearly have something to say, so go ahead and say it already."

"I'm just saying that, you know, maybe you could get some clothes that fit you a bit better. Or maybe just a _bit _nicer."

Harry groaned. "Not this again! I told you that I don't care about my stupid clothes. They're fine. I mean, they're a bit big, since I got them from Dudley, but they're good enough. And my Hogwarts robes fit me perfectly, I got them last year!"

"Dudley?" Parvati's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute, isn't that your Muggle cousin? You have clothes passed down from a _boy_?" She sighed heavily. "Well, that explains an awful lot. And you need new robes, your old ones are too small. We all do, actually."

"Listen..." Harry rubbed his head, feeling a bit annoyed by the conversation. "How about this? When we go to Diagon Alley, we can all get some plain, simple, non-fancy new robes, okay? Will that stop all your whinging?"

Parvati smacked him on the shoulder. "Don't be a pain, Harriet." She smiled and winked. "But I agree. New robes for everyone!"

"Wonderful," muttered Harry.

* * *

"So you remember what to say, right, Harriet?"

"Yes," Harry said a bit impatiently. "I've had my fill of going to the wrong Floo address. It's just 'Diagon Alley', right?"

Parvati nodded. "Yes, I just don't want you to end up some place unexpected or dangerous."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I think I've met my limit of that sort of thing. Shall I go first, just in case?"

"Well, okay," Parvati said slowly. "But you have your wand? And some extra Floo powder for emergencies?"

"Yes and yes," Harry said, twirling his wand around. "Now let's get going. After we get those robes, we're supposed to meet the gang at Flourish and Blotts. And it'll be nice to see Hermione and Lavender after so long, don't you think?"

Parvati grinned widely and nodded. "Oh yes, definitely." She looked back at Padma, who was standing nearby engrossed in a book. Parvati turned to Harry and whispered, "but I wonder if Anthony will show up. Although I don't particularly want to be around when Padma overwhelms Hermione with whatever she's left out of her letters."

Harry nodded. "Indeed. All right, here I go." He stood in front of the glowing green hearth and said, as clear as he could, "Diagon Alley." Instantly he began to spin in a now familiar, if still disorienting manner through the spirals of fire and wind.

The Floo spat him out into Diagon Alley, very close to Gringotts. Mrs. Patil stood there patiently, waiting for Harry to get back to his feet. Harry wasn't sure if he was annoyed she hadn't helped him up or glad she let Harry do that himself.

In fairly quick succession, the three remaining Patils came through the Floor without incident. Parvati was quite pleased to see that Harry had made it through.

"I was worried you might end up in Knockturn or something," she confided as they walked together.

"Never that," Harry said dismissively. "Um, what's this Knockturn? That sounds familiar."

"It's the alley near Diagon - but you shouldn't go there," Parvati cautioned him. "It's filled with dark wizards, hags, all sorts of bad news. Whole place is sketchy if you ask me."

"Right," agreed Harry easily. After all, when would he even want to go to such a place?

Harry managed to suffer through the purchase of new robes, and even though he requested them as plain as possible, he kept suspecting that Parvati had somehow made them more girly in some way. But looking in the mirror... he still looked all right. A guy in a robe, not a guy in a dress. So close enough.

Finally it was time to meet his other friends at the bookstore, and Harry was already unable to prevent a ridiculous smile from appearing on his face. He was really looking forward to seeing them all again.

However, as they walked towards Flourish and Blotts, they couldn't help but notice quite a sizable crowd queuing up outside the door.

"What do you suppose is going on here?" He asked the Patils.

"Look!" Parvati shrieked excitedly, pointing at a large banner proudly proclaiming that Gilderoy Lockhart would be signing copies of his latest autobiography.

Suddenly a loud squeal came from the crowd, and Harry jerked in surprise, then calmed down with a smile. He would recognize that shrill sound anywhere.

Lavender burst out of the crowd and grabbed Harry in a fierce hug. "Oh, Harriet, it is so _wonderful_ to see you!" She released him and squealed again, now being joined by Parvati as they embraced.

Harry laughed. "It's good to see you too, Lavender. You look great!"

Lavender blushed and then felt Harry's robes. "You do too, Harriet! Are these new robes finally?"

Parvati giggled. "Yes, although it wasn't easy getting her in the store."

"I'd imagine so," laughed Lavender. "Dear Harriet Potter, champion of the Trapdoor, defeater of You-Know-You, doesn't give a doxy what she wears!"

Harry couldn't help but join in the laughter. "Champion of the Trapdoor? But aren't we all the Trapdoor Gang?"

"Ooh, yes," said Lavender happily. "So you heard about that? I think it's such an _exciting_ name, don't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He smiled widely, happy to see the bubbly girl again after so long. "So is everyone else here yet?"

"Not everyone," came a voice from nearby.

Harry turned to see Hermione standing there next to Neville Longbottom, both looking slightly nervous.

"Hermione! Neville!" Harry grinned at the two Gryffindors. "All we're missing now is Ron and we'll have the whole gang back together."

Neville smiled back. "It's good to see you all."

"For me as well," Hermione said with a nod.

"Oh don't just stand all the way over there, Hermione," Parvati said askance. "Get over here and give us a hug then!"

Hermione blinked in surprise, then walked over slowly. Both Lavender and Parvati grabbed the other Gryffindor in a hug, leaving the bushy-haired girl a bit taken aback, albeit with a smile on her face.

Harry shook his head. "Really Hermione, I'd have thought you'd be talking our ears off."

"Is that Granger?"

Hermione winced. "Oh, hello Padma. How was your summer?"

"My summer was perfectly normal," Padma informed her with the barest hint of excitement. "Did you get my latest four letters? You haven't responded to them yet."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her head. "When did you send them?"

"Last night," Padma said. "So they should have arrived sometime this morning."

"I was still traveling," Hermione explained in exasperation. "Why don't we discuss them later, all right?"

Padma frowned. "If you don't want to talk, maybe I should go find Anthony like Harriet suggested!" She turned around and stormed away from them.

"What?" Hermione turned to Harry. "What is she talking about? Did she mean Anthony Goldstein?"

"You know him?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Just a bit," Hermione admitted. "He's in some of our classes, but we've never really talked."

Parvati grinned wickedly. "Harriet's trying to get the two of them together. Isn't it romantic?"

Lavender gasped. "Wait! Isn't that the boy who.. you know.."

Parvati nodded. "Exactly."

"Oh go on then," Hermione scolded them. "Stop being so vague."

"I'll explain later, Hermione," assured Harry. "But first - have you seen the Weasleys? We agreed to meet around noon."

Hermione shook her head. "No, not yet. I spotted Neville earlier, so we walked around a bit until Lavender found us. Then we came here, and well, you saw what happened next."

"Say, Harriet," Neville asked slowly. "Are you also, um, really interested in seeing Lockhart?"

Harry blinked, a bit taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I can explain," Hermione said, looking slightly embarrassed. "Lavender and I are both pretty excited to see Mr. Lockhart at the book signing. Have you read any of his books?"

"I have," Parvati told her. "But Harriet only cares if he's competent."

"Really?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "How pragmatic."

"Um, so.." Neville said haltingly. "You don't, um, fancy him?"

Harry scowled. "No."

"You haven't even seen him yet!" Parvati said teasingly.

"Somehow I doubt I'll change my mind," Harry replied dryly.

"Come on then," Lavender urged. "It's almost time for the book signing!"

The interior of the bookstore was even more crowded than outside, and at the center of all the commotion was a smiling, blond-haired man surrounded by books with an identically smiling face. Parvati and Lavender screeched at the sight of him, although they were far from the only ones making a commotion in the store.

"So, this is the famous guy?" Harry asked Hermione. "Hmm, he seems kind of... I dunno."

"Competent?" Hermione replied absently.

Harry shook his head. "No, he seems awfully full of himself, doesn't he? With all the books of his face around? Something about him rubs me the wrong way." As he watched the author begin to sign books and chat with his fans, Harry began to realize why he disliked the man, whom he had never even seen before. It was something about the way he looked at the various women in the crowd, a kind of condescending, somewhat creepy manner. A look Harry was all too used to seeing from the various sexist idiots who thought he was a girl. But for some reason, none of the many women happily squealing at the sight of Lockhart seemed to pick up on it.

"Hey! Harriet! Over here!" It was Ron and the other Weasleys, squeezed in the crowd near a photographer.

Harry grinned and turned to his other friends. "C'mon, let's go over there!"

"I don't want to lose our place in queue though," Parvati said, biting her lip.

"Actually, I think the Weasleys are closer than we are," Neville pointed out.

"Ooh, well spotted, Neville!" Lavender said excitedly. She yelled out, "Ron, hold a place for us!"

Harry grinned and wove his way through the crowd, leading the way for the others.

Ron chuckled as Parvati and Lavender pushed their way behind the Weasleys. "Well, great to see you too."

Lavender waved her hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, it's marvelous to see you again. We'll have time to talk _after_ we get our book signed!"

Ron turned back to the others with a frown. "You lot aren't so hung up on this ponce, are you?"

"Ron!" Hermione chided. "What a thing to say! Mr. Lockhart is a very accomplished author."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Right, should've guessed."

"He seems a bit off to me," Harry put in. "Don't you notice how oddly he looks at everyone?"

Neville stared at Lockhart and shook his head. "No, I don't know what you mean."

Ron chuckled. "I might have guessed Harriet wouldn't fancy the bloke."

"What did you say?" Ginny poked her head out from behind her mother. "Harriet, is that you?" She pushed out and grabbed Harry in a hug. "Oh, it's fantastic to see you again!"

Harry laughed. "It hasn't been that long." He raised an eyebrow. "You aren't mad into Lockhart too, right?"

Ginny shook her head vehemently. "No, certainly not. Um, why don't you like him?"

"He seems kind of odd to me," Harry said with a frown. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Kinda creepy."

"Oh, I see it too, Harriet," Ginny said hurriedly. "What a stupid creep!"

Hermione scowled. "Stop maligning a perfectly good man's name!"

"Speaking of big words," Ron interjected. "Where's our Ravenclaw teammate?"

"She ran off in a huff," Harry said with a smile. "After Hermione refused to discuss her billion letters over the summer."

Ron laughed. "A billion, eh? You sure you haven't missed a few?"

Hermione sighed. "It was certainly more than a few. At least five times as many as I sent back, that's for certain."

"Out of the way, there," the photographer suddenly snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the Daily Prophet —"

"Eh?" said Ron, stumbling back a bit, then he winced. "Ouch! Stupid bloody Scabbers." Ron pulled out his pet rat and sighed. "Suppose you probably got squashed when that git," Ron glared at the oblivious photographer. "Knocked into me." He carefully put Scabbers on his shoulder. "There, now you'll have a bit of air."

Hermione giggled. "You treat that rat better than your clothes."

"Oi! What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked loudly, looking highly affronted.

"What's this?" Gilderoy Lockhart looked up from his table at the noise.. He saw Ron — and then he saw Harry. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Harriet Potter?"

"Oh no," Harry muttered to himself.

Lockhart rushed over and clasped his hands around Harry's arm.

"Wondrous to meet you, my dear," the irritating ponce said. "I'm Gilderoy Lockhart."

"I know," Harry replied acidly. "Your face is everywhere I look."

Lockhart laughed loudly. "Yes, I do seem to be a bit all over, don't I?" He flashed a wide smile at the crowd, which laughed and applauded. He put his arm around Harry, who jerked away instinctively.

"Hey, watch it!" Harry said.

The crowd suddenly fell silent, and Harry looked back between Lockhart and the photographer. An idea suddenly came to him, one that might help with two problems at once.

"I know what you want," informed Harry accusingly.

Lockhart seemed very taken aback, shocked by the words into speechlessness.

Suddenly Harry smiled widely, copying the smile he saw everywhere. "You want to take a photo with me and my friends, right?"

Lockhart blinked and recovered quickly. "Why, yes, naturally. Your friends are also students at Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded and gestured to his friends. Ron and Neville seemed highly amused, while the girls looked as if they might faint.

"Well, that's wonderful!" Lockhart chortled. "Please, come over all of you! Yes, that's it. Hello there, lovely to meet all of you!" He bowed before the girls, and Parvati and Lavender burst into giggles. Hermione seemed a bit too intimidated so say anything, but Lockhart just winked at her with another huge smile.

He gathered Harry and his friends together, although he made sure to stand next to Harry. The photographer began clicking away madly, while the crowd applauded once more.

"That was quite clever," Lockhart whispered through his teeth at Harry. "I hadn't cottoned on at first to your little plan, but it was elegantly executed. I think you have a promising career ahead of you."

"Thank you," Harry whispered back graciously with a smile of his own towards the camera, although he wasn't quite sure what kind of career Lockhart had meant. Naturally, a well-publicized photo was all well and good - but although normally Harry wouldn't care about such things, there was a good reason this time. One thing that Harry had not yet seen was a photograph of himself - and this was the perfect opportunity to "test" how the curse might function under such a circumstance.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harriet and her friends here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, they only wanted to buy my autobiography and their school books — which I shall be happy to present now, free of charge —" The crowd applauded again.

The girls all looked very glad at this, and even Ron seemed happy to hear that bit of good news.

"No, they had no idea," Lockhart continued, winking at Harry, "that they would be soon getting much, much more than a few mere exceptionally well-written books. In point of fact, they will be getting the handsome and modest subject of those books." He winked at the crowd, who laughed as prompted.

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Parvati and Lavender squealed loudly and Hermione gripped Harry's arm.

"You hear that?" She whispered loudly. "Lockhart will be our new teacher!"

Harry nodded and looked back at Lockhart. "Could be interesting."

Ron shrugged. "At least he's no Quirrell."

"Yeah," Harry laughed softly. "Somehow I doubt You-Know-Who is hiding out under all that hair."

* * *

_Next time, Harry finally returns to Hogwarts._

"_Look!" Ron said excitedly. "I'm in the paper! We all are!"_

_Harry perked up. This was precisely what he had been waiting for._


	12. 12: A Perplexing Photograph

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

**Quick Author's Pre-Note: Yeah, sorry about the delay. You know how it is, eh?**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER TWELVE: A PERPLEXING PHOTOGRAPH**

* * *

"Well, that looked like fun!" Ginny said brightly. "I can't wait to see your picture in tomorrow's _Prophet_!"

Harry chuckled. "Me too. Ought to be quite.. _interesting_, I think."

"Free books!" Ron said happily. "Now that's a pleasant surprise."

Hermione whipped her head at Ron in surprise. "Why are you so pleased about books?"

"_Free_books," Ron pointed out. "I'm not planning on actually reading them, after all."

Lavender giggled. "Maybe you should give them to your sister them if you don't want to bother."

"Great idea!" Ron said with a wink at Lavender. "Glad to see someone's being smart about books for a change."

"Why, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione hissed. "You watch your mouth!"

"Here you are Gin," Ron said, dumping his Lockhart books in his sister's cauldron. "Enjoy!"

"Ron!" Hermione said again angrily.

"Calm down," Parvati muttered softly. "He's just trying to get a rise out of you. Don't let him win!"

"Fine," Hermione grumbled and glared at Ron, who looked away and pretended not to notice.

"My goodness!" Mrs. Weasley huffed, fanning herself as she walked over to them through the crowds. "A picture taken with Gilderoy Lockhart himself! How exciting."

"Oh no!" Lavender suddenly gasped and patted her hair. "I must've looked a fright! My hair was all over the place."

"Hardly a fair thing to say," Hermione grumbled.

Parvati sighed. "You both looked fine, of course. Right, Harriet?"

"Yes, yes," Harry said dismissively. "Everyone looked beautiful or handsome or whatever. Great work everyone, now can we please get some air?"

"Nicely said dear," Mrs. Weasley beamed at him. "Yes, let's all get out of this crowd. Mr. Weasley and the others should be about finished soon, we'll meet them outside."

"Typical of you lot."

Harry would recognize that voice anywhere. He rolled his eyes and turned to face Draco Malfoy, wearing a sneer that practically curled his face back.

"Hello, Malfoy," Harry said in a tired voice. "Well, this has been fun. We've got to run; see you at Hogwarts."

"Leaving so soon?" Malfoy asked with a chuckle. "Don't you want a few more photographs for your adoring fans?"

"Oh shut your sniveling face," Ron snapped.

"I wasn't talking to... _whomever you are_," Malfoy said dismissively.

Ron's fist clenched. "You... bloody..."

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley gasped. "Language."

Malfoy smirked. "Nice to see Mummy here to protect you."

"Move your ugly, girlish body out of the way," Parvati told him in a matter of fact tone. "We've got far more important people to talk to and far less hideous, sickly sorts to see."

"Parvati!" Hermione gasped in a horrified tone, although Harry saw her trying to hide a smile.

"She's right," Lavender yawned. "We have a long day ahead, and we have a lot to do. You know how it is, don't you, Draco? You must be tired, with such a weak little body."

"You dare..." Malfoy sputtered. "You..."

A hand placed on Draco's shoulder halted the inevitable angry tirade. "Well, well, well," an older man chuckled with a familiar sneer. It was clear that this was Draco's father. "It seems that you were right, Draco. An awful lot of Gryffindor girls in your year, highly interesting indeed. I feel bad for the boys," he glanced meaningfully at Ron and Neville. "If they've managed to hold on to their masculinity, that is." He bowed his head slightly to Mrs. Weasley. "Pleasure to see you again, Molly. And where is your delightful husband? Off tending to wayward Muggles, I assume?"

"No, no," Mrs. Weasley said a bit haltingly. "He's still in the store, he'll be along soon."

"Why, we must wait then," Mr. Malfoy said with a oily manner. "I must greet my old colleague."

"What are you doing here?" Draco whispered suddenly to someone behind him. "I didn't ask you to help me today."

"Oh, leave it be, Draco," Mr. Malfoy waved his hand. "It needs to learn to be more obedient, after all. Why don't you give it your things to carry for a while while we wait?"

Draco smirked maliciously and nodded. "Dobby, carry my books for me." At this command, a familiar house elf stepped forward with a stack of books nearly as tall as the elf.

It was at this point that Harry almost said something foolish, but managed to stop himself just in time. Dobby waggled his eyebrows at Harry, and shifted his weight around in some odd attempt to communicate. Harry nodded and coughed at the same time, then winked slightly.

Dobby smiled and winked back, just as quickly.

Harry was now a bit confused about Dobby in general - if he belonged to the Malfoys... what did that mean exactly? Did they have something to do with the danger at Hogwarts? It seemed likely, although it was possible Dobby had just overheard something. Harry resolved to discuss it with his friends when they had some privacy.

"Molly, we've got the books." It was Arthur, who had just pushed his way through the crowds with the older Weasley boys. He then noticed Mr. Malfoy standing there. "Oh. Lucius."

Mr. Malfoy nodded. "Arthur. Fine company you're keeping these days." He sneered and peered down into Ginny's cauldron, picking up one of the new Lockhart texts. "Brand new books, courtesy of Lockhart's largess? Or perhaps young Miss Harriet Potter? I'm sure you're with the girl for some reason. Nice to see that your vaunted regard for thrifty living doesn't extend to exploiting famous young girls."

"Put down that book," Mr. Weasley growled, which shocked Harry, who had never seen the man express such unpleasant emotions. It seemed that the Weasley children were just as about as surprised.

"Oh, where are my manners," Mr. Malfoy said with a chuckle and dropped the book into the cauldron with a thud. "Although I'm certain that if the book's damaged, you'll find some way to get Miss Potter to pay for it."

Mr. Weasley almost lunged forward, but his wife grabbed his shoulder.

"Arthur, don't," she insisted. "He's not worth it."

"Listen to your wife," Mr. Malfoy drawled. "A wise woman. Although I am probably worth quite a great deal more than you could imagine." He gestured to his son. "Come Draco, we still have purchases to make." Without deigning to look back, he walked off into the crowded store. Draco followed, although he made sure to sneer a final time at them.

"Wow," Parvati said slowly. "Suddenly I _understand _Draco Malfoy."

"A chilling thought," Lavender said with a shudder.

Ron laughed. "Thank you for that. That puts it all in perspective, don't it?"

"Let's go," Mrs. Weasley said, pushing a bit on her husband's shoulder, who was still glaring into the crowd after the Malfoys.

"You okay, Harriet?" Ginny asked as they finally walked outside. "You and that house-elf seemed to know each other."

"Eh?" Ron tripped a bit in surprise. "Wait, _that_was the house-elf you met? Merlin's slimy tongue, Harriet!"

"Ron!" Hermione said. "That is awfully stupid profanity."

"My Mum's right here," Ron pointed out.

"What's that supposed to mean, Ronald Weasley?" His mother said harshly. "We will be having words when we get home."

"Listen," Harry interrupted as politely as he could. "We really should go meet up with Padma - and maybe Anthony, if she's found him."

"Oh is that right?" Parvati said with a snicker.

"Well, I don't know," Mrs. Weasley said slowly. "We still have a bit left to do."

"Why don't we split up then?" Harry proposed. "I know Parvati and Lavender have been dying to talk, so why don't you guys check down that way? And Neville and Ron and I can check the other way. We can meet up for ice cream in twenty minutes no matter what. Um, Hermione can you stay a little while?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Harriet, I have some time before we have to leave. Um, whom should I walk with?"

"You can walk with us!" Lavender said excitedly, grabbing at Hermione's hands. "It'll be fun, talking with the girls!"

"And I have a feeling Harriet's sick of being with only girls for weeks," Parvati said shrewdly.

"Well, I don't know about that," Harry said, wondering how obvious he had been about it.

"What about me?" Ginny whined.

"You can walk with us," Parvati told her. "It'd give us a chance to get to know each other a bit more. And we can answer some questions about Hogwarts for a new Gryffindor girl."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think she'll be a Gryffindor?"

"Oh, _really_, Ron," Lavender scolded.

"Right, fair point," Ron shrugged.

"Um, I dunno," Ginny said, looking at Harriet.

"No, that's a great idea," Harry nodded. "And if you see Luna, you can bring her along too!" He turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Why don't you walk nearby, so you feel they're safe? And Mr. Weasley can walk with us."

"Is that all right with you, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked her husband, who had calmed down considerably and was now grinning widely.

"Yes, a capital idea!" He beamed.

* * *

"So what do you suppose was with that house elf?" Ron asked as they walked down the Alley.

"Actually, that's something I wanted to talk about," answered Harry. "Why would the Malfoys' house elf want to warn me about danger at Hogwarts?"

"Hello, what's this?" Mr. Weasley broke in. "Did you say something about a Malfoy house elf?"

"Yeah, Dad," Ron said. "That's the house elf that's been bothering Harriet. Blocked her mail, remember?"

Mr. Weasley frowned. "Yes, I do. How very odd. Very suspicious, certainly."

"Harriet," Neville asked hesitantly. "Do you recall what sort of danger the house elf mentioned? Or anything about its owners?"

Harry nodded. "Actually, I do. Not the sort of thing you just forget, is it? House elf showing up and banging its head into everything. Every time Dobby almost spoke ill of its family, he would try to hurt himself. Of course, now that I know the Malfoys were involved... well, I can't blame the poor guy for not liking them."

"But hold on a second," Ron said. "Dad, I thought that house elves couldn't disobey their masters?"

Mr. Weasley stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That is indeed yet another bizarre problem, isn't it? Harriet, did it seem that the elf was disobeying in some way?"

"Not exactly," Harry said, putting few things together. "Actually, now that I think about it, I remember Professor Dumbledore mentioning that you could trick house elves into revealing information. Dobby definitely was unable to _directly_ disobey the Malfoys, but we were able to compromise on an _indirect_way for him to help me out. Kind of odd, but it seemed to work."

"That _is _unusual," Mr. Weasley agreed. "I suppose part of my confusion is that I've never heard of house elves trying to subvert their master's will - well, not in centuries, in any event. This elf - Dobby, you said? He must be a bit different than most house elves, or perhaps with an exceptionally strong moral code."

"That makes sense," said Neville. "Most of the time, house elves don't really seem capable of seeing anything immoral about their masters, even when it would seem obvious."

"Oh, that reminds me!" Harry realized suddenly. "Mr. Weasley, what about that address Dobby mentioned? Where I accidentally Floo'ed to? 38 The Dormers in Highworth?"

Mr. Weasley frowned. "Well, the Malfoy manor _is_ in Highworth," he said cautiously. "Although I don't recall their address off the top of my head. That _may _be it, however."

"Hey, look!" Ron pointed and then waved. "It's Luna! Over here, Luna!"

Luna and her father were standing nearby, and she looked over at Ron's loud yelling. She grinned widely and ran over, grabbing Harry in a hug.

"Great to see you again, Harriet!" Luna beamed. "And you too, Ronald and Neville. And Mr. Weasley, very nice to see you as well!"

"Hello, Arthur," said Luna's father, who was walking up slowly, an odd look in his eyes. "What are you all doing here today?"

"Nice to see you both," Mr. Weasley said quickly. "Xeno, I imagine we're here for the same reasons - Hogwarts supplies, correct?"

Mr. Lovegood shrugged and looked up into the sky. "Who can really say why we're truly here?"

"Right..." Ron chuckled. "Luna, sorry you missed Ginny - she's with Mum and the others walking the other way. We're going to meet up in a bit at Fortescue's for a bite, you want to come too?"

Luna nodded happily. "Okay! Daddy, is that all right?"

"I'm sure it is," Mr. Lovegood said solemnly. "Ice cream can be excellent for the pores."

"How have you been Harriet?" Luna asked as they walked back to the ice cream parlour.

"So it's Harriet again?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought we had agreed that you wouldn't call me that. Not actually a girl, remember?"

"Huh?" Ron looked at them with a look of utter confusion.

"What?" Luna frowned and looked a bit confused. "Oh, dear, yes - I had forgotten. It's not Harriet, it's... Hrr... prr..." She winced and held her temples.

"You forgot?" Harry asked in horror. "You forgot that I wasn't actually a girl?"

"Yes, but now it's coming back," Luna said, grimacing slightly.

"What are you guys talking about?" Neville asked in confusion.

"Girl stuff, I imagine," Ron whispered a bit loudly. "Best to stay out of it, I reckon."

"Ah," Neville nodded. "We'll stay out of it then."

Ron nodded and smirked. "Yes, quite. Wisely said, Lord Longbottom."

Neville shoved him and then laughed. "Don't make me knight you, Sir Weasley."

Ron laughed and pushed Neville back. "Shut it! I'd make a better knight than you. Remember the chess game?"

Neville nodded dramatically. "Oh I do. But I rather think we weren't assigned correctly - I think I should've been a king."

Ron snorted. "Someone's got a high opinion of himself, don't you?"

"I am _so sorry_, Not-Harriet," Luna said tearfully, shocking Harry a bit, who had been listening to Ron and Neville's silly argument. "I did not mean to forget, truly I didn't. Please forgive me. Please."

"Luna, stop that," he scolded. "It's gotta be that curse, obviously. I can't blame you for something you didn't mean to do." Harry sighed. "But now I'm worried - do you think that if we don't see each other for a while, you'll forget again?"

"Oh, I hope not!" Luna gasped.

"Would you stop making Luna cry?" Ron said, a bit horrified. "Harriet, that's not very nice of you."

"No, no, no!" Luna snapped. "Don't accuse her of that, Ronald! Not-Harriet has been very nice to accept my utter failure. It's completely my fault, not hers."

"Didn't you tell me to stay out of it?" Neville mumbled to Ron.

"Shoulda taken my own bloody advice," Ron grumbled.

"Ron, watch it," Mr. Weasley cautioned. "You shouldn't use that sort of language."

"Right, sorry," Ron rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Harry tried to assure a still teary-eyed Luna. "Maybe make sure we talk regularly - or do some sort of experiments? You'd like that, right?"

Luna sniffed and wiped her nose on a handkerchief. "Yes, actually. Experiments can be fun, as long as you obey the proper safety procedures."

Mr. Weasley smiled at them. "It sounds like you've got it figured out then, right?"

Eventually they arrived at Fortescue's ice cream parlour, albeit slightly ahead of schedule. Harry took the opportunity to buy Luna something in advance, an ice cream lollipop that wouldn't melt until you licked it off the stick.

Luna smiled as she unwrapped the frozen confection. "You don't have to be so nice, Not-Harriet. I should be the one apologizing."

"Why don't we agree everyone's wrong and stop there?" Harry suggested.

"I'm sure we can agree that Ron is often wrong," Neville quipped.

"Oi!" Ron said indignantly. "I'm not afraid of you, Neville. Well, not that much, anyway."

Mr. Weasley laughed. "Ah, such enthusiasm. Reminds me of my own rollicking schoolyard times."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He grinned at his father. "You got into fights?"

"Well, I don't know about that," Mr. Weasley sputtered. "Besides, this is hardly the place for this sort of talk. Your mother and the others might be here any moment."

"Mum doesn't have to hear about it!" Ron insisted.

"Is that right, Ron?" It was Ginny, who had just popped into the store. "What does Mum not want to hear?"

"Nothing, Ginny," Mr. Weasley chuckled nervously. "Nothing at all. Just something Ron misspoke, that's all."

"Guys!" Parvati ran in, pulling Lavender and a somewhat exasperated Hermione in with here. "Guess who _we_bumped into?"

"Hello," a familiar Ravenclaw boy said, pushing back his hair in a sort of nervous manner.

Padma walked in right behind him, looking a bit annoyed. "So now that we're here, can we please finalize the quandary of the unknown records of Alexandria?"

Harry looked at Hermione meaningfully.

"Yes, yes," she grumbled. "Do shut up."

* * *

The rest of the summer sped past in a haze, until Harry finally found himself standing outside the Hogwarts Express. Finally ready to return to Hogwarts after what had been a restful and stressful summer holiday. Harry had initially been looking forward to seeing the results of his photograph experiment, but was quickly disappointed when he remembered the Patils didn't subscribe to the wizarding newspaper.

"Mother thinks it's a waste of money," Parvati had explained to a disappointed Harry over breakfast. "And Father says it's all rubbish anyway. Besides, we've been reading the Quibbler ever since your birthday, and that's all they're willing to pay for."

"But the picture..." Harry had not quite figured out how to explain why he so badly wanted to see the photo of himself.

"Don't worry," Parvati then told him. "Lavender said she'd grab a copy, and I'm pretty sure the Weasleys get the _Prophet_. We'll see ourselves when we see them on the Express."

The train whistle interrupted Harry's musings and he looked around with a sigh. The twins were saying their final goodbyes to their parents, and Harry began to recognize several students he knew slowly climbing aboard the train.

"Miss Potter," Mrs. Patil said, causing Harry to start a bit. "I hope you have had a pleasant summer with us, although I would assume that next summer you will have found more feasible accommodations."

"Um, yeah," Harry said, getting back his bearings. "Thank you so much for letting me stay. Everything was great. Uh, I guess I'll try to find somewhere else to live next summer. I think that Professor Dumbledore had some ideas about it."

"Harriet, don't be ridiculous," Parvati scoffed. "I'm sure you could stay if you had to next holiday. Right, Mother?"

Mrs. Patil frowned but nodded slightly. "Yes, I suppose so."

"Do you suppose Granger or Anthony are on the train yet?" Padma asked, peering at the Express.

Mr. Patil grunted and looked annoyed, and Harry had a pretty good idea why. Although he and Parvati had been careful not to mention anything about Anthony Goldstein, Padma didn't seem to care about displeasing her parents in that regard. Luckily, it seemed that at the very least, they hadn't attempted to ban future contact with the Ravenclaw boy. Harry had a feeling that command probably wouldn't have gone over very well.

"Well, why don't we check?" Parvati said brightly, trying to avoid her parents eyes. "Harriet, shall we?"

Harry nodded. "Of course. Thanks again," he said to Mr. and Mrs. Patil and walked onto Hogwarts Express.

The train had already started to become a bit crowed, but the three of them managed to find an empty compartment. After barely a minute sitting down, Padma leaped up impatiently.

"I am going to see if Granger or Anthony are on the train yet," she said.

Parvati sighed. "If you must," she said in slight annoyance. "But don't just corner them somewhere and talk their ears off if you do find them. Bring them back here. Okay?"

Padma nodded. "Yes, all right." Then she was off, leaving the compartment quickly.

Parvati yawned and stretched languidly over the seat in an awkward manner. Harry found himself a bit taken aback by her contortions.

Parvati caught Harry's look and then looked at a bit embarrassed, straightening up in her seat. "Sorry about that, just a bit tired. I'm really happy to be back to Hogwarts, aren't you?"

Harry shook his head to clear it, and then nodded emphatically. "You'd better believe it. I'm just happy to _do _something, you know?"

"Oh certainly," Parvati nodded and smiled. "So what do you think about Lockhart as the new Defense Professor? Better than last year, eh?"

Harry laughed. "No question on that front, right? Well, as long as he doesn't try to kill me too."

Parvati giggled and then made a disapproving sound. "Tsk, tsk, Harriet. Not everything is about people trying to kill you."

"Isn't it, though?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Parvati laughed. "Maybe just a little," she said teasingly.

Harry pulled out his copy of _Year with the Yeti,_which he had been trying, but failing to actually get through. After attempting another few pages, Harry shut the book in a huff.

"This is ridiculous," he complained. "Most of this book isn't about yetis at all; why do I need to know about Lockhart's favorite color?"

"Lilac, right?" Parvati said, a bit absently, looking out the window. She turned back to face Harry. "What's the problem, anyway? I think it adds a sort of color to the stories. Sometimes they can get a bit boring."

"I'm not sure I've even learned _one_ useful spell or technique by reading this," Harry grumbled and then leaned back with a sigh. "Ah, well. Maybe the others are better. I thought that the _Trolls _one was a bit amusing."

Parvati giggled. "Haven't read that one yet myself. Although I would wager Hermione has managed to read the lot."

Harry snickered. "Obviously."

After a few minutes of waiting, they were set upon by several of their friends in rapid succession, crowding into the compartment until only Padma and Hermione were missing. Ron had mentioned seeing Hermione outside earlier, so it was assumed she'd join them soon enough.

"Is it all right if we sit here?" Ginny asked, standing near the door next to Luna Lovegood, who looked over and Harry and winked.

"That depends," Harry said quickly. "What color is my hair?"

"Huh?" Ginny looked at the older students in confusion. "Is that some sort of trick question?"

"Hmm," Luna considered the query, then peering at Harry. "Is it - not red?"

Harry nodded. "Close enough." He grinned at the two younger girls. They quickly squeezed in on nearby seats, and suddenly the train began to move.

With a sudden feeling exhilaration rushing through him, Harry couldn't help but felt excited - Hogwarts, finally! It didn't take long for the group to begin chattering away in their usual manner, settling back into their remembered behavior the previous year. Although something was missing...

A piece that used words none of the rest had ever heard of before.

"No, for the last time, the use of dangerous venom with Potions isn't just a moral issue!" Hermione was saying this as she stormed into the compartment, then stopped and looked around. "Oh, good. I was wondering when I'd find you all. Getting a bit crowded in here, isn't it?"

"Hey, Hermione!" Lavender called out. "Where's Padma?"

"Right behind me," grumbled Hermione. "She basically dragged Anthony along with us."

"Oh, _really_?" Parvati asked, raising an eyebrow. "Where is he?"

"Right here." Anthony stepped forward and blinked. "Oh, there certainly are a lot of you. Is it always so many?"

"Nope," Ron said blithely. "Those two are new," he said, pointing at Ginny and Luna. "One's my little sister - care to guess which one?"

"Shut it, Ron!" Ginny told him a bit angrily, her face looking slightly flushed.

"So answer the question, then!" Padma had suddenly appeared, hands on her hips. "Exactly why would you have a problem using unstable venom in Potions?"

Hermione groaned. "Would any of you mind terribly moving over a bit and giving me a place to sit down?"

"But there's a few seats empty over there," said Neville in confusion. Hermione glared at him, and Neville gulped.

"Right, here, take my seat, I'll sit there," he said, getting up quickly.

"I'm going to go say hi to some of my housemates," Anthony said. "I'll see you guys later."

Harry waved. "See you later." After the Ravenclaw boy had left, leaving Padma to sit down next to a wary Neville, Harry turned to Parvati.

"So, you think my little idea is working?" He asked her.

Parvati giggled. "It just might be, Harriet."

"Ooh, what idea?" Lavender asked excitedly.

"Oh, I'll tell you later," Parvati told her. "In the meantime, tell us about your trip - how was it?"

Harry leaned back in his seat comfortably and closed his eyes. He had a bit of time before Hogwarts, after all, didn't he?

* * *

Hogwarts was everything Harry had remembered and more. He felt a wave of happiness rush over him as he rode in the horseless carriages to the castle. A reminder that wizards did love their theatrics.

"It's good to be back," he said softly.

Ron, sitting across from him, nodded vehemently. "Brilliant to see the old place again, innit? Even if it does mean having to be given homework - and Hermione bugging us to complete it."

Hermione smacked him while Lavender burst into giggles.

"Watch it, Lavender," Hermione warned. "I'm not afraid to hit a girl."

"Oh, are you two going at it then?" Ron asked, looking a bit excited.

Hermione and Lavender shared a look, and then both hit him at the same time.

"Oi! What did I do wrong?" Ron asked, holding up an arm to protect his head. "Neville, back me up here."

"Hmm," Neville glanced quickly around the carriage. "No."

Harry laughed. "Come on, there will be plenty of time for fighting later. Maybe we'll get to duel or something in Defense this year?"

Hermione brightened. "Ooh, I do hope so," she said. "Practical experience is quite useful after all." She turned to Ron and waved a finger. "But you mustn't forget theory altogether."

"Why are you singling me out?" Ron complained. "You're the only one who likes that stuff anyway - well, you and the Ravenclaws." He grinned. "And it looks like we may be getting a new one, eh?"

Hermione shrugged. "Anthony's not a bad sort. He has that off-putting thing about him that all Ravenclaws seem to have, but he's not as bad as Padma. And besides, aren't you and Neville a bit happy to have another boy in the mix?"

"Um, well," Neville stammered a bit, before clamming up completely.

"Oh I don't know, Hermione," Parvati said with a smirk. "Perhaps the two young lads might get a bit jealous. Do we really need more male energy?" She poked Harry in the shoulder. "Besides, Harriet here is more man and woman both than any of the rest of us put together."

Ron laughed. "I'm not about to argue with that one."

Parvati looked at Hermione shrewdly. "But I'll bet Hermione's a bit happy to get a break from all that arguing. I'm afraid it'll only last until the carriage ride is over, though."

Hermione sighed. "You have a point, Parvati. I honestly _do _like Padma, annoying personality and all. But sometimes I just like a little time to myself."

"I can _completely _understand that," Harry said in utter agreement. "Although that gets boring eventually as well."

"So," Ron rubbed his hands together and smiled. "What are we thinking for this year's crop of ickle firsties? Ginny's obviously a shoe-in for Gryffindor, but I'm not sure about Luna."

"She can keep up better than us with the 'Claws," Lavender pointed out. "And she's certainly a smart girl, if a bit odd at times."

"But she's been hanging out with us," Neville put in. "Maybe that's influenced her the Gryff way."

"Hmm, I don't know," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Think about it for a moment. A bit off-putting, intelligent if misguided at times, and a vehement defender of nonsense. That's Ravenclaw for you."

Lavender giggled. "Jealous, are we?"

Hermione scowled. "No. And may I just say I'm more than a bit tired of all the talk that if you're smart, you must be in Ravenclaw. Did you know that I had the highest marks of anyone in our year?"

"Really?" Parvati gasped dramatically and clapped for a moment, until Hermione glared at her. "Everyone, quick! A round of applause for the biggest surprise ever!" She then started clapping again. The others were quick to join in, although Hermione continued to glare, until finally she broke into laughter as well.

"All right, you can stop," Hermione told them. "But my point is the same. We have a few highly intelligent folks in Hufflepuff and Slytherin." She paused and looked over at Harry. "And maybe a few in Gryffindor that'd do far better if they applied themselves a bit more."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, message received. I'll be sure to beat _even you _this year."

Hermione colored a bit. "Well, now, you needn't go quite _that _far."

Lavender giggled and then gasped. "Ooh, I almost forgot. I brought a copy of the _Prophet _the day after we met Lockhart!" She pulled out a folded newspaper from her bag, and Ron leaned forward with interest.

"I see you, Ron," Lavender said with a laugh. "Here you go." She handed the paper to Ron, who opened it quickly.

"Look!" Ron said excitedly. "I'm in the paper! We all are!"

Harry perked up. This was precisely what he had been waiting for.

"Harriet, it doesn't seem like you enjoyed it that much," remarked Neville, looking over Ron's shoulder.

"What? What do you mean by that?" Harry asked in confusion.

Ron passed over the paper and Harry saw the problem. In the photo, the version of himself kept ducking outside the picture frame, making it impossible to catch a good glimpse. Harry tried viewing the paper from different angles, but to no avail. He tossed the paper to the floor with a huff.

"That's annoying," he said grumpily. "I can't even see the color of my hair."

Parvati looked at him with an odd expression. "Is that such a mystery, Harriet?"

Lavender picked the paper off the floor with a frown. "You didn't have to throw it, Harriet. I want to put it up on our wall, if it's okay with you all."

"Aw," Ron pouted. "Can't we put it up in the common room?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you care that much about everyone seeing you in the paper?"

"Um, no," Ron said hesitantly.

"Besides," said Parvati in a matter-of-fact tone. "Don't you already have a copy?"

"No," Ron grumbled. "My Mum put it in her "Special Memories of Family" box. Said it wouldn't do to get a swelled head about it."

"A wise lady," Neville said with a nod. "My grandmother said about the same thing."

The carriages came to a stop and the doors opened. They had arrived.

* * *

Harry didn't bother paying much attention to the Hat's song, although it seemed a bit different from the previous year. He was far more interested in the actual Sorting. The first to be sorted in Gryffindor was a small, mousy boy that was greeted enthusiastically by the table. Then several more students were Sorted into various houses until finally:

"Lovegood, Luna."

"Still think Ravenclaw?" Lavender asked in a whisper to Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I do."

And sure enough, after only a minute or so, the hat called out "RAVENCLAW" to the excited cheering of the Ravenclaw table. Harry made sure to applaud loudly as well, triggering his friends to follow his lead. Luna looked over in their direction and smiled, before walking to the Ravenclaw table.

Harry hoped that Anthony or Padma would help her a bit, although it was a tough thing to do. Anthony could probably only do so much, as he wasn't a girl, and Padma... well, she wasn't very much liked in that House.

Eventually the Sorting came to the final student.

"Weasley, Ginny."

"What will you do if she ends up in Slytherin?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron looked horrified. "Don't say such awful things, Harriet!"

But it turned out not to matter, as the Hat then called out "GRYFFINDOR". Ginny was welcomed by the table, including her brothers. Fred shook her hand in a grand and dramatic fashion, and George bowed in a elegant manner.

Ginny giggled. "Prats," she said affectionately.

"Welcome, welcome," Dumbledore proclaimed cheerfully as he got to his feet and the students quieted down. "Before we begin the highly anticipated feast, let me first introduce a new member of our staff. Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor is well known author Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart."

Instantly a wave of enthusiastic applause echoed throughout the Hall, although Harry noticed that the most enthusiasm came from the girls. Lockhart, dressed in a fancy aquamarine robe, stood and waved to the crowd with a toothy smile.

"Thank you so very much, Albus," Lockhart said loudly. "I hope that the students here learn a great deal from my fantastic exploits." He winked and the female students made various excited noises. "I rather think this will be one of the most interesting years at Hogwarts since I was a student," Lockhart said, shooting a discreet look at Harry. He then sat down next to a visibly angry Snape.

"What's with Snape?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"Good question," Harry said softly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

The rest of the evening went fairly as expected, with the typical sort of yearly announcements from the Headmaster and a sumptuous and satisfying feast. Ginny spent much of the time talking with and explaining magical things to the mousy boy, Colin Creevey, who somehow got increasingly excited over time until Harry wondered if the small boy would simply explode with happy energy.

As they all walked back to the Gryffindor tower, Colin ran over to Harry and stuck out his hand. Harry accepted it carefully, a bit taken aback by the energetic boy, especially when Harry and his friends were fairly tired after a long day and the recent comsumption of delicious food.

"Hullo, I'm Colin Creevey," Colin said. "Although you probably already heard my name when I was Sorted. And you must be Harriet Potter! I'm so honored to meet you!"

"Um, yes, thanks," Harry answered, pulling back his hand from Colin's, who hadn't seemed to realize that handshakes weren't meant to last that long.

"I had heard a lot about you before today, of course," Colin confided. "But Ginny answered a whole bunch of my questions about you!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Did she now?" He looked over at Ginny, who winced and shrugged.

"Well, I'm sure she'll answer whatever questions you might have during the year," Harry grinned. "Won't you, Ginny? Maybe tell a story or two?"

Ginny smiled awkwardly. "Um, yes, of course I will. Happy to help out a fellow Gryffindor."

"There you are then," Ron said, ruffling the shorter boy's hair. "You'll have a great time at Hogwarts."

"Thanks sir!" Colin beamed up at the much taller Ron. "Are you friends with Harriet?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yes, I am. I'm Ron, one of Ginny's many older brothers."

"Oh, of course!" Colin gasped. "It's obvious, now that I see it. You two are clearly related."

"Come on, come on now," Percy walked over and interrupted. "You need to come with me to the first year's dorm. Hurry now!"

Colin waved at Harry and then walked to the rest of the first year students.

"Well, that was interesting," Parvati remarked. "Looks like you've got yourself a fan, Harriet."

Lavender giggled. "Maybe he and Ginny can form a club."

"Oh, really now!" Harry said in annoyance.

"And why not?" Hermione said airily. "It's never too late to start getting a new junior study group to copy our excellent example."

"If that means they don't have to hang around us, I'm all for it," proclaimed Ron.

"Fantastic..." Harry grumbled. "We'll have to find them a Mystery too, I expect."

Lavender clapped her hands excitedly. "Ooh, and we need one too!"

Hermione beamed and nodded in agreement. "Yes, we do need a group project, don't we?"

Parvati looked at Harry with a reprimanding look. "See what you've done?"

Harry shrugged and grinned at her. "What's life without a little Mystery?"

* * *

In a way, it rather shocked Harry how quickly he fell into the same old Hogwarts routine. All his things unpacked just the way he liked, easily memorizing the new Hogwarts schedule.

And even the typical sort of class to start the year off in the normal fashion. Something bizarre and highly dangerous, yet somehow also familiar. In their first Herbology class, shared with the Hufflepuffs, Professor Sprout introduced them to a dangerous plant that looked like small infants in a vaguely unsettling manner.

The Hufflepuffs all greeted Harry with a suspicious level of friendliness, and he found himself in the unenviable position of pretending he recalled all of their names.

"Oh, great to see you again," Harry said, shaking a friendly, sort of pompous boy's hand.

"You look lovelier than ever," another boy said, bowing a bit.

"Thanks... you," Harry said, slightly annoyed by the compliment.

"Did you have a good summer with all of your friends?" This came from a girl Harry was pretty sure was called something like Susie, often a bit more recognizable due to the long plait that fell halfway down her back.

"I did, that is, we did," replied Harry.

"What in the world are you lot going on about?" Ron finally asked, and Harry privately was happy someone had said something.

"What do you mean?" The non-pompous boy seemed a bit taken aback. Then he shook his head. "Sorry, I'm being rude. I don't think we've formally met. I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley." He stuck out his hand and Ron accepted it gingerly.

Justin then proceeded to shake hands with Neville and do a sort of complicated head nod to the girls.

"I'm Ernie Macmillan," the pompous boy said, pushing forward and grabbing Ron and Neville's hands at the same time. "Fantastic to finally have a chance to talk with you lot. Marvelous, really."

"Um, I suppose we should introduce ourselves too," the plaited girl curtsied in a fairly adorable way. "I'm Susan Bones, and this is Hannah Abbott."

Hannah smiled shyly and waved a hand, then went back to filling her plant pot with compost.

"What about those two?" Ron asked, pointing at the other two Hufflepuff boys slightly rudely.

Justin frowned slightly. "Oh, well, the tall one is Zach Smith, and the other is Wayne Hopkins. They don't really talk to most people outside of the Hufflepuff House."

Ernie chuckled. "Ah, but don't worry about them, Ron Weasley. After all, you haven't introduced us to your prodigal Gryffindors." At this, he gestured to Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, sitting by themselves.

Harry blinked in surprise, as he had forgotten the two close friends were even there, although that had often happened the previous year, as they had been the only Gryffindors not in his group of friends.

"Don't bother with those two," Ron scoffed. "Not the friendly type, like we are. Right, Nev?" He grinned and threw his arm over Neville's shoulder.

"Um, exactly," Neville said in a slightly annoyed fashion, as he had been holding a trowel with compost, which had spilled a bit.

"Well, Ron's question still stands," said Hermione. "Why are you acting so friendly all of a sudden? More than last year, I should clarify."

The Hufflepuffs exchanged a few significant looks.

"Well, it's not that complicated," Susan began slowly. "Everyone knows about your study group last year, and how you even hung out all the time with a Ravenclaw."

"Your sister, Parvati," explained Justin. "Although of course we don't need to tell you that."

Parvati scowled. "I'm not sure what you mean, really. She's my sister. Why not let her join our group?"

"Very good point," agreed Justin. "And yet, apparently this year there's been rumors you've invited Anthony Goldstein, another Ravenclaw, to your group."

"Well, sort of," Hermione said a bit haltingly. "It's a bit more that we all spent some time together over the summer, and now... well why not invite him?"

Susan smiled. "That's _precisely_the point. We four have had our own study group that we sort of modelled after yours, although obviously we don't have the brains of your group." She nodded at Hermione. "Everyone knows you had top marks last year, and the rest of you weren't far behind."

"Um, yes," Hermione stammered, her face getting a bit flushed. "But I'm sure there are intelligent students in all the Houses."

"Thank you," Ernie nodded to her. "I quite agree, of course. Shame that so many don't seem to understand that."

Lavender pouted. "I don't understand."

"All right everyone!" Professor Sprout called out. "Put back on your earmuffs!"

"We'll talk more later," Susan whispered with a smile.

Harry exchanged a look with Parvati and she shrugged.

"Interesting lesson," she said quietly, so that only he could hear.

"Quite," replied Harry with a smile of his own.

* * *

After a fairly predictable, albeit pleasant Transfiguration class with Professor McGonagall, it was finally time for the highly anticipated Defense class with Gilderoy Lockhart.

All three of the girls were nervously chattering with each other about what Lockhart might talk about, and which of the many books were the best.

Ron groaned. "I'll just be glad when everyone calms down."

Harry nodded. "I agree. But I hope he knows what he's doing."

"I doubt even they would disagree," Neville said quietly, gesturing to the girls, although he tried to make sure they couldn't see him do this.

Harry laughed. "We can always hope, right?"

"Hullo, Harriet!" It was Colin, waving at them in the middle of hallway.

Parvati scowled at the small first year. "Colin, please don't bother Harriet right now. We're late for class!"

"Oh, sorry," Colin said apologetically, looking instantly very sad.

Harry winced. "Don't worry, we're all in Gryffindor," he told Colin. "I'm sure we'll see each other plenty of times this year."

Colin instantly brightened and nodded energetically. "Of course! Thanks Harriet!" And he ran off, smiling all the while.

Ron clucked his tongue. "You really shouldn't lead on the poor firstie, Harriet. Unless you really _are_trying to start a fan club."

"Say, Neville," Harry remarked nonchalantly. "Smack Ron for me, will you?"

"With pleasure!" Neville replied with a short bow, and hit Ron on the back of the head.

"Oi!" Ron rubbed his head and glared at Neville. "You just wait until Harriet tells me to hit _you_."

Neville laughed. "Like that'll ever happen."

Naturally, the girls had missed this entire exchange, as they had rushed into the classroom to grab good seats. Harry decided to take a seat in the middle, although Ron was quick to sit in the far back of the classroom.

Finally the man himself arrived, and Lockhart swept into the Defense classroom with a flourish. He bowed deeply, sending most of the girls into waves of giggling.

"Welcome, my dear students! As you are all quite aware, I am the famous Gilderoy Lockhart." He grinned and winked. "But you can just call me Professor Lockhart."

As several students giggled softly, Harry frowned and watched the new Professor carefully. What sort of teacher would Lockhart be? Incompetent and secretly evil like Quirrell? Mean but competent like Snape? Or something else altogether?

And would he actually try to kill Harry at some point, like Parvati had teased?

No, that was ridiculous, Harry realized. Sometimes Professors were just Professors.

* * *

_Next time, a terrible attack at Hogwarts._

_"Dobby, I need your help," Harry pleaded. "Think about what's already happened!"_

_The house elf twitched and he seemed about to burst into tears._


	13. 13: Another Horrid Halloween

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**NOTE NOTE NOTE: FFdotNet ate my last upload somehow. This is a re-upload.**

**Quick Author's Pre-Note: Back to this one again, I suppose! Sorry about the severe delay. In response, here's almost 11,000 words, more than usual!  
**

**Thanks again to my beta, working even through sickness on the other side of the world.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: ANOTHER HORRID HALLOWEEN**

Professor Lockhart looked around the room, nodding approvingly at the many copies of his books sitting on desks. "Excellent, excellent," he said and chuckled. "I see you lot have bought my set of books - well done, all of you. I hope you found them quite illuminating _and _educational. I've prepared a short little quiz - quite easy, mind you, just to see how well you've absorbed the material."

Harry raised an eyebrow, wondering about this, and Lockhart caught the small motion.

"Ah, Miss Potter." Lockhart looked almost nervous as he met eyes with Harry. "Did you have some confusion about the books?"

"Well," Harry said slowly. "I suppose I'm a bit confused about this quiz. Is it testing us on all the books?"

Lockhart nodded and smiled, although this particular smile was quite a bit smaller than his best efforts. "Naturally, my dear. It is my duty as an educator to properly assess the current capabilities of my students, isn't it?"

Hermione beamed at the Professor and nodded in agreement.

"Sure, that part makes sense," answered Harry. "But I thought the books were meant to cover all year - actually all the years, since you have the same books for every year. So I didn't even know which were specifically meant for our second year."

"I see," Lockhart replied in a worried tone, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So you haven't read all of them?"

Harry shook his head.

The Professor turned his gaze to the room. "Class, has anyone else read all the books?"

Hermione instantly shot her hand up, but no one else did. The bushy-haired girl seemed shocked, and she looked over at Parvati. "You haven't read the books?"

Parvati looked a bit uncomfortable at the scrutiny, and tried to look at her and Lockhart at the same time. "I think I was thinking a bit more like Harriet. I've read two or three of the books over the last few months, but I didn't think to read all of them. I mean, I haven't read all of our other books either."

"I'm so sorry, Professor," Hermione proclaimed sadly. "I would have pushed them to read if I knew they were being so _irresponsible_." As she said this last part, she turned her glare on her friends.

Ron rolled his eyes and looked over at Neville to make a face, who seemed more taken aback by Hermione's vehemence than hurt by it.

"No, no, no," Lockhart held up a hand and then laughed softly. "My dear, what is your name?"

"Me?" Hermione suddenly began to tremble slightly. "Um, Granger, sir. Hermione Granger."

Lockhart laughed a bit loudly this time and shot Hermione a friendly wink. "No need for all that, Miss Hermione Granger. 'Professor' is certainly more than acceptable. But it seems to me that although you may have read ahead, perhaps Miss Potter has the right of it." He gave Harry a shrewd look. "Yes, although I may be a world-famous adventurer and best-selling author, I will admit that this is the first time I have taught. I'm happy to hear a little friendly feedback so I can properly teach the wonderful students of Hogwarts! In short time, I expect I'll be the finest teacher Hogwarts has ever seen!"

Harry nodded in approval. This seemed like the proper way to think about things, and if they could ensure Lockhart wasn't the sort of berk who couldn't teach at all, so much the better. It was far preferable to have a decent Professor, after all.

Lockhart patted the stack of unfilled quizzes on his desk. "Perhaps this will be better suited for the upper years. Although now that I think on it, part of the problem is lack of good Defense books. Merlin knows how frustrated I was at our ever changing parade of different Professors, each with their own idea on what the _proper _sort of textbook ought to be assigned."

"You had different Professors?" Parvati asked hesitantly.

"Oh yes indeed," replied the Professor with a rueful grin. He sighed dramatically. "It is a well known rumor that the position of the Defense has been cursed since old Professor Merrythought retired nearly forty years ago or so. Since then, not a single consecutive term has been held, although there have been a few repeated instructors here and there." Lockhart chuckled. "Nonsense, of course. As if an actual Hogwarts Professorial position could be affected by magic."

He looked over at the students, all of whom were paying close attention. Lockhart smiled happily, pleased to see the response. "Now, you will learn, my students, that although magic is capable of great and terrible things, even Magic has its limits. But here's a little secret for just you." The Professor looked around a bit surreptitiously, as if expecting someone to attack at any moment. "The key to success isn't power, it's ingenuity. Good old fashioned wizarding cleverness. You can overcome just about any obstacle by thinking about it the right way. In fact..."

Lockhart walked behind and his desk and picked up a covered cage. "I have a little surprise for our first class. Not too difficult, but not for the faint of heart either. As a Professor of Defense, it is my solemn duty to arm you against the foulest creatures in the world! Naturally, I'm not about to face you off against a nundu or a quintaped anytime soon, not that the Headmaster would likely allow such beasts in these walls. But remain calm, students... no harm shall befall you while I am here."

With a flourish, he whipped off the cloth to reveal a cage filled with tiny faeries colored an electric blue. As soon as the cloth had been removed, they began to chirp loudly and flying about the cage.

"Anybody recognize these little blighters?" Lockhart asked with a satisfied grin.

Hermione's hand shot up immediately, of course, although a few others also seemed to recognize the creatures.

"Um, yes, you there," Lockhart pointed at Seamus Finnegan. "You have an idea?"

"They're pixies, ain't they?" Seamus answered, leaning back in his chair. "Seen 'em before when we went on holiday to Devon few years back. Mum said they weren't dangerous but were a nuisance."

Lockhart chuckled and shook his head. "It is a dangerous thing to underestimate the dangers of the world, lad. They can be frighteningly strong at times, I can assure you. So the question becomes..." He put a hand near the cage door, causing the pixies to move about even more erratically. Lockhart glanced at Harry and seemed to be considering something. He chuckled once more and stood back.

"The question, students is simply this: How might you subdue these devilish little creatures? Any ideas? Yes, Miss Granger, right? What do you think?"

"Well," Hermione said slowly and a bit nervously. "Perhaps one could use one of those disorientation hexes to prevent them from flying. Legs-Locking or something like that."

"Not a bad start, not bad at all," beamed Lockhart. "Ten points to Gryffindor for the excellent reasoning. But what if it wasn't just one or two pixies, but a mess of them, like we have here? You'd be hard pressed to cast so many hexes, wouldn't you?"

Hermione frowned, tapping her desk with her quill as she did when she was thinking something through.

Harry raised a hand and the Professor nodded to him. "Maybe you could use something to blow a bunch away? Like a wind spell or something like that? Are there any spells to do that?"

Lockhart tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting, interesting. I should point out, though, Miss Potter, that any sort of, well, _elemental _spell of that nature tends to be difficult for younger years. Its possible, though quite unlikely, that any second year could successfully cast such a spell." He looked over the class with a discerning sort of gaze. "Anyone else? Another idea?"

The class was silent for a minute, looking at each other.

"Wait, hold a moment," Ron said suddenly. "So there's a horde of 'em little blighters, right? There's a bunch of us too. What if each of us used an easy spell on a few of them. Divide it up, like."

"Ooh, I like it!" Lavender enthused. "But it'd have to be to be a fairly simple spell."

"What do you think Hermione?" Parvati asked.

"Hmm?" Hermione seemed a bit startled at the question. "Oh, well... now let me think. How about using the Freezing Charm?"

Neville frowned. "The Freezing Charm? But that's not really for living creatures, is it? It's like to prevent something from moving, right?"

"Ah, but wait," Hermione began to excitedly write out notes on her parchment. "_Derigesce _falls under that Scalable Charm class of spells, which means we ought to be able to modify the spell using a relevant post-fix. Like _Maxime_ or _Dilata_. Right, Professor?"

Lockhart blinked, then nodded regally. "Why yes, Miss Granger, that sounds about right. Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Hermione beamed proudly.

"But..." The Professor waved a finger in warning. "Do you think you can pull it off?"

Harry raised a hand. "Can we practice a bit first?"

Lockhart laughed and then nodded in agreement. "I suppose there's no harm in it this time around. First class and all that, right?"

They spent the next few minutes practicing Hermione's modified spell, freezing rolling quills and ink-pots until each student managed it at least once.

"Are we sure about this?" Ron asked nervously. "What if it doesn't work on them?"

"It was _your _idea, Ron," Hermione pointed out.

"And _your _spell," Ron retorted.

"All right, all right," Harry said in annoyance. "Calm down, both of you. We don't want the Slytherins to beat our time, do we?"

"Our time?" Parvati looked over at Lockhart. "Professor, is there some sort of contest?"

Lockhart raised an eyebrow and then began to smile. "Yes, yes indeed! Although I'm a touch taken aback Miss Potter has figured it out so quickly. I have your fellow second years later today - do you fancy you can disable the pixies fastest in Hogwarts?"

"Of course," scoffed Ron. "We're not letting the Slytherins beat us!"

"Well, I don't know," Hermione worried. "The Ravenclaws might solve it quicker than us."

"Don't be silly," said Parvati with a sly look. "They'd spend most time reading _how_ to do it and forget to just _do _something."

"And don't forget about the Hufflepuffs," Neville said thoughtfully. "They'd want to share all the credit with each other - spend so much time complimenting each other's technique they'd forget to do anything at all."

Ron laughed loudly. "That's mean, Neville!"

Neville shrugged. "I learn from the best."

"Thanks, Nev!" Ron said with a smile.

"Oh no, I meant Snape," Neville corrected him.

Hermione made a coughing sound, and looked like she was hiding a laugh.

"Anyway, I think we're ready," Harry said, knowing if he didn't jump in, this could go on for ages. "Professor, let out the pixies!"

Professor Lockhart walked a bit behind the cage and gestured to it. "Ready, everyone? Three... two... one! Have at them!" With a smooth motion, he unlocked the cage magically, and about two dozen electric blue pixies burst into the air with high-pitched screeches and shrieks.

"Okay!" Harry yelled. "Everyone do like we practiced. _Derigesce Maxime_!" His hex hit one of the pixies straight on, immobilizing it place before it fell to the ground.

Hermione eyed a few darting near her desk. "Right! _Derigesce Maxime_!" Shaken out of the sudden shock, the other Gryffindors burst into action, tossing their hexes into the air. The pixies darted in circles in the air, screeching loudly and trying to evade the sudden burst of spells. But after only several moments, all but one of the pixies had been immobilized and stuffed back into the cage. The remaining faerie sped around the room, dodging hexes from the Gryffindors before leaping through the window - but Neville's spell caught it at the moment, locking it in place before it fell.

Everyone rushed over to the window to see if the pixie had hit the ground. The pixie smacked into a wall with an impressive sound, which jarred it out of its cursed state. With ever fading screeching squeaks, the little pest flew off into the distance.

"Oops," said Neville belatedly. "Sorry for losing your pixie, Professor."

Lockhart laughed loudly in amusement. "Nonsense, Mister Longbottom! Ten points for excellent aim under difficult circumstances! Perhaps one fewer pixies will make it a tad easier for the other years, but I rather doubt they'll beat your excellent time."

"So what will we get if we do win?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"You mean _when _we win," Parvati said in a dramatically arrogant tone.

Ron laughed. "That's the spirit, innit?"

"Whoever does the best at the end of the day will get a few bonus points," Lockhart told them. "Hardly sporting if we don't even allow them a chance, is it?"

Harry nodded and grinned at his friends. It seemed fair enough.

* * *

"I'll see you guys at lunch," Harry said as they left the classroom. "I just need to run to the lavatory."

"Need some company?" Parvati asked with a knowing smile. "Or would you prefer to be by yourself like usual?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "We don't need to go over that again. Just don't let Ron eat everything."

"Hasn't happened yet!" Ron proclaimed cheerily.

"But the closest lavatory is... well, you know," said Lavender in a worried tone. "_Occupied_."

"Huh?" Neville looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Never you mind, Neville," Hermione instructed firmly. "It's not important."

"Right," Harry said with a nod and raced off, calling back over his shoulder. "See you in a bit!"

Later, Harry was washing up when he heard a familiar sob.

"How have you been?" Harry asked the hovering translucent girl. Myrtle tended to haunt this particular bathroom with frequent disturbing moans and cries, leaving it ideal for Harry - as more often than not, no one else was there. And Myrtle really wasn't so bad once you got past her thin, easily shattered emotional barriers. Although there was the gossip to contend with... but Harry had developed a foolproof way of handling this: pretending he was listening.

"Oh, I'm miserable as per usual!" Myrtle said with a grin, then she looked around surreptitiously. "But I've heard all sorts of rumors about you lately. Murdering a Professor last term! Building some crazy harem of boys and girls! But a harem that excludes the Slytherins!"

"A what?" This wasn't the typical sort of gossip Myrtle delighted in sharing, which tended to be how terrible other girls were looking or what terrible things they were saying to and about each other. To Harry, it was all a bit boring, but this talk of murdering a Professor...

Harry shook his head and sighed. "Listen, Myrtle, I didn't murder anyone. Professor Quirrell was possessed by Volo... You-Know-Who, and we had a bit of a scuffle. When You-Know-Who ran away, she killed Quirrell, not me."

If anything, Myrtle seemed even more keen at this clarification. "_Really_? That's almost as good as some of the stories I've heard! And what about your snubbing of the Slytherins? Pansy, Daphne, and Tracey all were complaining you had left them out of your secret group because you hated Slytherins and were totally jealous of them!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Are those Slytherin girls? I don't even really know them - I think I recognize Pansy's name, but I don't even remember the other two. Short girls, right? Sort of plain?"

Myrtle giggled. "Oh, the very plainest, Harriet. And sometimes they throw things at me to shut me up, the beasts!"

"Well, that just goes to show you we did right leaving them out," Harry said with a smirk. "Although to be honest, I didn't intentionally try to exclude them... really, I just don't know them. Hard to shun someone if you forget they exist."

The ghost let out a shriek of laughter. "Brilliant, Harriet! I'll be sure to pass that message along!"

Harry frowned - that sounded like it might lead to problems down the road. But then again, perhaps not. "Do you talk much with any of the girls, Myrtle?"

"Not really," Myrtle shook her head. "Nobody cares about poor Myrtle." Her eyes began to brim with tears.

"Don't say that," Harry said in exasperation. "Obviously I do - wouldn't be talking to you otherwise, right?"

Myrtle gave him a watery smile. "Thank you, Harriet! You're the nicest girl I've ever met in all my time at Hogwarts. Even more than the girls back before I died." She scowled. "Actually, _especially _more than those bints. Tarts and scarlet women, the lot of them. At least some girls these days pretend not to hate you before talking about you behind their backs."

"I'd never do that," insisted Harry honestly.

"Oh, I know you don't, Harriet," Myrtle agreed. "But back when I was still alive, girls didn't even bother with that. Just insulted me to my face."

Harry made a sound of annoyance and shook his head. "Awful." He looked up at the ghost and thought for a second. "You know," he said in realization. "I don't think you've ever really spoken about your life before... you know, before..."

"I _died_?" Myrtle asked with relish.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle a bit at that. "Exactly. Would it be weird if I asked, you know... how it happened?"

Myrtle seemed surprised and flattered. "You want to know _how _I died? I don't think I've ever been asked that before. Not since right after, anyway." She grinned at Harry. "I can tell you exactly what happened, if you aren't too scared!"

"I supposedly murdered someone last year," Harry pointed out. "I think I can handle it."

Myrtle nodded with a smile. "Good point. But there's not much to tell, really. I was here in the washroom, crying in my stall after that horrid Olive Hornby teased me about my glasses."

Harry scoffed. "Ridiculous. Spectacles are great. Couldn't see a lick without them."

"Well, you look so pretty with them," Myrtle said warmly. "Not like me, I was often teased by girls for wearing glasses."

"You look fine," Harry said, used to complimenting Myrtle. "I've often said so."

Myrtle beamed. "Thanks! Anyway, back to the chilling mystery of my death! I was in the stall, crying like always, when I heard somebody come in. It was a boy, speaking something in a foreign language. Well, crying or no, I wasn't about to let that go, so I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then —" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I died."

"How?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Myrtle in hushed tones. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…" She looked dreamily at Harry. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

Harry chuckled despite himself. "Sounds like she deserved it."

Myrtle joined in with her own shrill laughter. "Oh, she quite certainly did!"

"I gotta grab some lunch," Harry told Myrtle suddenly, feeling his stomach grumble a bit. "But I'll see you later, right?"

"Bye Harriet!" Myrtle waved, and then floated back into her usual stall.

Harry raced off down the halls to the main hall, where it seemed all the students were finishing up their meals.

"Harriet, that took forever!" Parvati said worriedly. "Is everything... okay?"

"Yes, yes," he replied, reaching past her and grabbing a few rolls to stuff in his mouth. He chewed quickly before swallowing and cleared his throat. "Just ran into Myrtle, that's all."

"Oh dear," Lavender bit her lip. "Did Moaning Myrtle try to scare you?"

"Eh?" Ron perked up from his somehow still full plate of food. "Who's this Moaning Myrtle?"

Harry scowled. "I've told you, that's not a nice name. Myrtle's all right."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harriet, it never ceases to amaze me how you can befriend even the most difficult people."

"Like you?" Parvati quipped.

Hermione glared at her. "That's enough out of you!"

"But who _is_ Moaning..." Ron glanced at Harry. "I mean, Myrtle. Who is she?"

Harry nodded in approval, leaving Ron to grin triumphantly and elbow Neville, who was reading a Potions book.

"What?" Neville asked crossly. "Potions is hard enough as it is without you constantly being such a... Ron!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked in a wounded tone. "Being a Ron is a great thing!"

Down the table, the sound of laughing could be heard, and Ron glared at his older brothers. "Shut it, you two! Stop being such... Fred and Georges!" He nodded and nudged Neville again. "Right, Nev?"

"I'm leaving," Neville said in exasperation. "Otherwise I might blow up another potion, and I'd rather not Snape murder me this term, if you don't mind." He got up and stormed away from the table.

"Neville!" Ron seemed shocked. He looked back at the table. "He left some food."

"Don't you dare eat that!" Lavender instructed him harshly. "That's foul!"

"But it'd just go to waste otherwise," Ron whined.

"How much time do we have before next class?" Harry asked, stealing Parvati's cup of pumpkin juice.

Parvati clucked her tongue in mock disapproval. "That's disgusting, Harriet. Although I suppose you did that sometimes back at home, too."

"We have twenty-five minutes," Hermione informed Harry, rolling her eyes.

Harry nodded to her. "Thanks. That leaves me enough time to go say hi to Luna. Haven't spoken to her since before the Sorting. Be back in a bit."

"Say hi to Padma for me," Parvati instructed. "I haven't spoken to her in a day or so. And maybe even pass on a message from Hermione."

Hermione winced. "Um, no, that's not necessary. Don't worry about me."

Harry yawned a bit then nodded. "Right, message received. Hi and not hi it is." He walked over to the Ravenclaw table, which was still mostly full, heading near to where Luna was sitting.

Luna spotted him as he walked over and waved. "Hi, Not-Harriet! I didn't forget you aren't a girl!"

"Glad to hear it," Harry told her with a grin. "Hello, Padma," he said to the twin sitting nearby engrossed in a book while still eating..

"What was that?" Padma asked with a blank look.

"Just saying hello. Oh, and Parvati says hi. You guys should probably speak soon."

Padma blinked. "Very well."

"How's Hogwarts going?" Harry asked Luna, not really expecting much more from Padma.

"Oh, Hogwarts is great!" Luna beamed. "I'm learning all sorts of things."

The sound of a throat clearing caught Harry's attention, and he turned to see a girl looking crossly at him. It was someone in his year, he knew that... but he couldn't quite recall her name.

"Yes? Did you want something?" Harry asked politely.

The girl scowled. "Don't give us that nonsense. What are you doing away from your table?"

"I was just talking to my friends, if you don't mind," Harry said, getting a bit annoyed at the girl's confrontational tone.

"You can't do that," the girl told him. "It's against the rules."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that's not right. Padma, you know the rules of Hogwarts, right?"

"Yesh," Padma said with her mouth full of something, then she swallowed audibly.

Harry asked. "Is going to other House tables not allowed?"

"The only rule that might imply something like that is the one that says that each House is assigned its own table," Padma recited while dabbing her mouth with a napkin. "There is nothing explicitly stated about co-mingling or visiting other tables. I would expect it's more practice than a legitimate rule."

"There you go," Harry gave the now quite furious girl a triumphant look. "So kindly mind your own business."

"Just because you're bloody Harriet Potter you think you can do whatever you want." She gestured at the girl sitting next to her, another one in their year. "Lisa, why aren't you supporting me on this?"

Lisa looked back and forth between the girl and Harry. "Mandy, it's not a big deal. No need to yell about it."

"I'm not yelling," Mandy hissed. "You always say that. And maybe I think there _is _a need to yell about it."

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. "So I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Harry Potter, although I expect you may have already known that."

"Um, I'm Lisa Turpin," Lisa said, looking nervously at Mandy. "This is Mandy Brocklehurst."

"Stop that, Lisa!" Mandy spat angrily. "Don't play her stupid games. I don't know her motive is for supposedly befriending Padma and Lovegood, but it's certainly not _actually _friendship."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked, now getting quite mad, but managing to keep from shouting. "Padma and Luna _are _my friends. I'm sorry that's too difficult for you to understand. I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart." He turned to Luna. "Have these two been bothering you or Padma?" Although Harry was pretty sure Padma wouldn't care, Luna was a different story.

Luna seemed taken aback at the question. "Why, no, I wouldn't say that. They say mean things, but most people do."

"What do you mean _'most people do_'?" Harry found himself clenching his fist without realizing it, and forced himself to calm down... slightly.

Mandy made a scoffing sound. "Listen to this preachy condescension! First Padma, now Looney Lovegood. Harriet Potter, Defender of the Daft!"

"Don't you call her that!" Harry hissed. "Her name is Luna. Maybe I should call you Manly Brocklehurst since you look like a boy."

Mandy threw her drink at Harry, catching him in the face. "You bloody tart!"

Lisa paled, looking mortified.

"Well, this has been fun," Harry said, his face dripping with pumpkin juice. "Padma, nice seeing you. I'm sure we'll talk more at the next study group. And Luna, let me know if anyone is _misbehaving_." He looked pointedly at the first-year girls sitting next to them, who all looked they were desperately trying to not pay attention. "Or better yet, tell a prefect too."

"I hate you!" Mandy said, her face red. "You are the worst." She jumped up from the table and stormed off.

Lisa smiled shakily at Harry and jumping out her seat, running to catch up to her friend.

"Studying will be fun," Padma said, closing the book she had been reading and getting up from the table. "Is Anthony also coming to the next session?"

Luna handed Harry a napkin, which he used to clean his face. "Thanks, Luna. And I don't know. Anthony, are you?" He addressed this to the Ravenclaw boy who seemed even more mortified than Lisa had been.

"Um, sure, I wouldn't mind," he said, glancing at Padma. "But maybe not every time."

"That's fine," Harry assured him. "It can get a bit crowded sometimes, after all. See you soon, then." He walked back to the Gryffindor table in as dignified a manner as he could manage.

"What was that all about?" Parvati asked, biting her lower lip. "I was about to come over there when Mandy and Lisa ran off. What were you arguing about?"

"It's not a big deal," Harry said dismissively. "That Mandy just has some odd problems. She's clearly angry at the world. I just don't want her to be mean to Padma or Luna."

Parvati scowled. "What did that little girl say?"

"Wait, who was mean again?" Ron asked. "Who were those girls that ran off?"

"Lisa Turpin and Mandy Brocklehurst," Lavender told him. "But was Lisa being mean too?"

Harry shook his head. "No, she seemed rather embarrassed by Mandy's stupid awfulness. As well she should've."

"Oh dear," Hermione said worriedly, biting on her finger in a nervous fidget. "I hate the idea of all this unpleasantness. It reminds me of... well, you know."

"How you were last year?" Parvati asked knowingly.

"Exactly," Hermione replied with a frown. "We're almost teenagers. We should be more mature about such things."

Professor McGonagall had walked over while they were talking, looking quite cross indeed. "Miss Potter, what in the world was all that about?"

Harry sighed. "Just a few people unable to believe I might have friends in Ravenclaw."

McGonagall frowned. "That seems difficult to believe as the lone cause. Why did Miss Brocklehurst throw pumpkin juice at you? I can assure you, Professor Flitwick will be speaking to her about it as well."

Harry rubbed his head, feeling a headache about to come on. "She used a very mean name for Luna. And Padma too, now that I think about it."

"What did she bloody say?" Parvati asked angrily.

"Miss Patil!" McGonagall scolded. "Watch that language. And Miss Potter, what exactly was said? And I will know if you aren't telling me everything."

"She called Luna 'Looney'," Harry explained, still feeling mad about it. "And something about being 'Defender of the Daft'."

"Why that..." Parvati stopped and glanced at Professor McGonagall. "That... girl."

McGonagall looked distressed. "It seems acrimony is sometimes unavoidable, I'm afraid. I'll speak to Filius and we'll deal with this - but please do not retaliate in any way. It is admirable to stand up for your friends, of course, but we can't have fighting in Hogwarts. People get hurt, Miss Potter, as you know."

"I know," Harry grumbled and collapsed on the bench, feeling tired all of a sudden. "I just don't like bullies."

The Professor had an odd glint in her eye. "Well, then, I think ten points to Gryffindor for not retaliating in kind. Do not make me regret that decision."

Harry shook his head. "I won't. I don't start trouble... it just comes looking for me, that's all."

McGonagall sighed then checked her watch. "You had better pack yourselves up. It's time for your next class."

The Gryffindors quietly gathered up their things and walked to the classroom. All the while, Harry was quiet, just thinking about nothing much at all. But somehow deep in thought, nonetheless.

* * *

The next few days went by in a blur, with Harry only talking when necessary and feeling slightly off center. The argument with the Ravenclaws left him feeling out of sorts - like he wasn't sure he was handling everything well. The study group met once with Padma and Anthony, and the chatter was enough so that Harry didn't think he needed to contribute anything. Until he was directly asked a question.

"Is that all right with you Harriet?" Lavender asked.

"Eh?" Harry sat up, having not really been paying attention.

"She asked if you wanted to visit Hagrid on Saturday," Parvati said, looking concerned. "Are you okay, Harriet? You haven't really seemed yourself lately."

Harry shook himself. "No, no, I'm fine. Just dealing with being back at Hogwarts, homework and all that. But, um, yeah. It'll be nice to see Hagrid."

Padma nodded eagerly. "I can't wait. Have you spoken to Hagrid yet, Anthony?"

The Ravenclaw boy seemed a bit taken aback at Padma's sudden but expected enthusiasm. "Oh, no I haven't. Isn't he the gamekeeper?"

"Yes," Hermione said with an arch look. "But he's also our friend and a wonderful person - if a bit naive at times."

Anthony chuckled. "I can understand that, certainly. Naivete has its charms and unique appeal, doesn't it?"

"Certainly," Hermione agreed with a raised eyebrow. "But there's something to be said about rationality and logic in the face of nonsensical circumstances."

"Makes a great deal of sense to me," Anthony said with a smile.

"Enough," Ron groaned. "If it isn't debates about nothing, it's nothing about nothing."

Lavender giggled. "That doesn't make sense."

"Well I'm not in Ravenclaw, am I?" Ron teased.

Anthony laughed. "That's probably a good thing. You'd hate it."

"Oh I don't doubt it," Ron agreed with a nod. "Ravenclaw is for crazy brains. No offense."

"None taken," Anthony shrugged. "I fancy myself as a bit of a crazy brain. Although I often wonder why Hermione wasn't placed in Ravenclaw."

"Simple," Harry put in with a small yawn. "She's a brain, but not a _crazy _brain."

Hermione giggled through her hand. "No need for that, Harriet. You know, the Sorting Hat actually said I'd do well in Ravenclaw."

Ron blinked in surprise. "Really? What happened?"

Hermione shrugged. "I told it I wanted to go to Gryffindor and it did what I asked."

"Can you do that?" Lavender wondered.

"That's the same thing that happened to me," Harry told them. "For the most part."

"You were almost in Ravenclaw?" Anthony asked curiously. "You don't really seem the type, either. No offense."

Harry laughed. "None taken either. It actually said I could do well in any of the houses, even Slytherin."

"No!" Ron gasped in horror so loudly Neville began to laugh.

"Calm down," Harry glared at them. "I said I couldn't be in the same house as Malfoy. The Hat agreed."

Parvati nodded with a grin. "Makes perfect sense to me!"

"Harriet!" A sudden shout made them all turn to see Oliver Wood, the Quidditch captain. He was then instantly hushed by Madam Pince, and bowed in apology.

Pince looked at him suspiciously and went back to her desk.

"Sorry about that," Oliver said at a more reasonable volume. "Harriet, I was told you were probably down here. I needed to tell you about Quidditch practice - we're starting Saturday morning, right after breakfast! We need to ensure a victory this year, don't we? Keep up the streak, right?"

Harry looked at his friends. "You think we can visit Hagrid after I'm done?"

"That's fine," Parvati said quickly before a suddenly annoyed looking Padma could say anything. "Can we watch the practice?"

"Sure," Wood said with a smile, then he glanced at Padma and Anthony. "Wait... you two are Ravenclaws, aren't you? Well you can't come."

"Oliver, don't be ridiculous," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "It's not like they're spies. And Padma doesn't like the Ravenclaw team, anyway."

"Really?" Oliver asked her suspiciously.

Padma nodded. "Yes, the Ravenclaws are mostly useless. The only exceptions are Anthony and Luna Lovegood, but neither of them are on the team."

"Well, okay..." Oliver said slowly. "I suppose we won't do any of her super secret stuff until later." He looked meaningfully at Harry. "Right, Harriet?"

"Yes, yes," Harry said, seeing Ron's questioning look and shaking his head. "I won't share the secret of how to win at Quidditch."

"All right then!" Oliver beamed. "See you Saturday!" He began to whistle as he left, and seemed to miss Madam Pince hushing him again before he exited the library.

Lavender giggled. "Super secret stuff?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't ask."

* * *

Sure enough, come Saturday morning, Oliver Wood stood, tapping his foot impatiently, while everyone else finished breakfast.

"You need to calm down, Ollie," Fred said sagely. "And have you even eaten anything? You were standing there like that when we came down."

"I was first down of anyone - except Oliver was here, not eating," Katie Bell snickered. "I don't know how he does it."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Why am I surrounded by such irresponsible... what's the word again?"

"Gadabouts?" Hermione offered. "Or maybe layabouts?"

"I like both of those!" Oliver said with a grin. "So stop lazing about like gady-layabouts and meet me at the pitch when you've finished stuffing your clearly already filled mouths." He stomped off from the table without even a look back.

Fred sighed and shook his head. "That poor boy will never grow up big and strong at this rate."

"It's a shame," George agreed. "He could beat Hagrid with just a simple daily meal or two."

"I think we had better go," Harry said, getting up from the table. "Oliver might go spare out there if we don't start practicing."

"Bu' you wo' las' year," Ron pointed out through a mouthful of food.

Lavender smacked him on the back of the head. "Don't talk with your mouth full!"

"I suppose you can't be too careful." Harry said, and turned to his other teammates. "You guys coming?"

"Yes, I suppose we had better," Angelina replied with a groan.

"We'll meet you out there," Parvati promised with a smile. "It'll be fun to watch the practice."

"More fun for you, I think," Harry mumbled to himself.

A sudden high-pitched voice startled him. "Hey, are you guys going to play Quidditch?" It was Colin, the small, excited boy. "Can I watch?"

"I suppose," Harry said slowly. He looked around the table and frowned. "Say, where's Ginny? I'm surprised she's missing breakfast."

Colin shrugged. "Want me to go look for her, Harriet? I can do that! Although I would like to watch you play so much!"

"It's not really a game," Neville told him. "Just practice. You'll have plenty of time to watch the team throughout the year."

"Okay!" Colin agreed with a happy nod. "I'll go find Ginny then! See you later, Harriet!"

Harry sighed and mouthed "Thank you" at Neville, who grinned knowingly.

The team practiced for several hours, led by a determined Oliver Wood - planning to keep his perfect captaining record a solid streak. Harry's friends yelled out both insults and cheers in sequence, including one from Ron that almost sent Harry off his broom in laughter. But about an hour before they were scheduled to stop, there was quite an unpleasant surprise indeed.

"What in Merlin's filthy underthings?" Fred looked down in annoyance. "Is that the Slytherin team?"

Oliver Wood's face contorted in fury. "We still have the pitch for another hour! Are they here to spy on us? Or worse, sabotage us?" He sped down in a flash, straight for the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"We had better go after him," Angelina said with a sigh. The other girls nodded in agreement.

"Good point," George said. "We should back up Ollie so he doesn't do something stupid. We still need him for the Keeper position." He flew down and the rest of the team followed past.

Oliver was already yelling at a very smug looking Slytherin team, and Harry's friends had come down from the stands at the commotion.

"Calm down!" Hermione hissed loudly. "Do you want to get in trouble?"

"Listen, I don't expect civilians to understand," Oliver told her. "These fools think they have the pitch now. We are _scheduled until noon_. That is not up for debate."

"This little paper says otherwise," Marcus Flint, the bulky captain of the Slytherin team, was holding a piece of parchment with a sort of sneering grin. He smacked the paper into Wood's chest fairly hard, although Oliver seemed more concerned about the note, which he scanned quickly. His face began to form into a snarl.

"This is nonsense," the Gryffindor Keeper said, throwing the paper on the ground. "Special dispensation by Professor Snape so you can train your new Seeker? Ridiculous!"

"Wait a minute!" Ron said, narrowing his eyes and pointing into the Slytherin group. "What's Malfoy doing here?"

Harry began to laugh. "Come now, you can't seriously be expecting us to fall for that one. Nice try, Flint."

Flint's mouth quirked up a bit and he grunted. "Not a joke, Potter. Malfoy is quite the skilled Seeker. And besides, his father made a most generous gift to the team." He made a gesture and each member of the team pulled out a new broom emblazoned with the words _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_. "Quite impressive, aren't they? Rather outstrips your own by more than a bit - puts it completely to shame."

"Oh, I get it," Harry said with a grin. He winked at Flint very obviously, making sure Malfoy could see him. "Very clever of you. How very Slytherin indeed. Well, I'll leave you to 'practice' - you'll assuredly need it if you want to stand a chance."

"What are you babbling about?" Malfoy snarled, his face pale with anger. "Are you saying I'm not good?"

"Well it _is _rather obvious," Parvati put in with a smile of her own. "Though I can't say I'm surprised you haven't spotted it."

Malfoy looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Spotted what?"

But Parvati just shook her head, and sighed, looking at Flint, who seemed to be in some sort discomfort, considering how he was clenching his lips closed. "Seems they let anyone into Slytherin these days," she said. And then Ron burst into laughter.

"I get it now!" he crowed triumphantly. "Malfoy, you git. You're not even good enough for the Slytherin team."

"Careful now," Flint said softly. "Don't want to be saying something you can't take back."

Malfoy glared at his team captain. "What are you trying to say, Flint?"

Flint's eyes glinted dangerously. "Watch your mouth, Malfoy. Or it'll take far more than brooms to pay for it."

"When I tell my father about this," Malfoy threatened the much larger Slytherin student.

"Enough!" Flint said vehemently and turned to Wood. "You had the pitch already for most of the morning. You really think one measly more hour will keep you from losing this year?"

Oliver's eyes narrowed and he grunted. "Fine," he spat. "We'll go. Good luck with your _precious_ brooms and your _adorable _new Seeker. Hope his bloody hair doesn't get out of sorts from all that wind." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and stormed off to the changing rooms.

Harry turned to his friends and shrugged with a weak smile. "All right, I'll meet you guys where we planned." He looked meaningfully at the Slytherins, whom had already started to set up, looking like they were pretending they were the only ones there.

"Right," Parvati agreed with a nod. "See you there."

When Harry arrived at Hagrid's hut a little while later after getting cleaned up and being forced to listen to Oliver rant for several minutes rabidly about "those sneaky slimy snakes!", he was ready for a little bit of peace and quiet. And hopefully no dragons this time.

"Yer bein' silly," Hagrid was saying as Harry walked through the open door. "Eh? Oh, hallo there Harriet. Good ter see yeh. Got some fudge an' tea waitin' for yeh."

"It'f weally chewy," Ron said, working his jaw quite vigorously.

"I'll just take some tea for now then," Harry said with a small smile, wedging himself between Parvati and Neville. The hut was fairly crowded, but it wasn't so bad. "Now what's this about being silly?"

"It's not really that important," Hermione said dismissively with a wave of unconcern. "Padma's being ridiculous again. And Hagrid doesn't like Professor Lockhart for some reason."

"Yeh don' need ter go that far," Hagrid mumbled into his tea. "He just keeps tellin' me things I already know. Or he gets it wrong and tells me some Leprechaun gold about how _I'm _gettin' it backwards." The large caretaker shook his head. "No point in arguin' abou' it, I say. Dumbledore hired him, s'pose he can' be all that bad."

"So have you met the new Ravenclaw in the group?" Harry asked, gesturing at Anthony, who was standing next to Hermione and Padma instead of sitting squashed between them. Perhaps that might've been a wiser choice, but Harry thought it'd be rude to stand up now.

"Sure, sure," said Hagrid with a great grin. "I've seen all of yeh come in last year, of course. Plus I knew yer parents a bit, not that well, mind yeh, but I remember 'em. Smart kids, bit shy though."

"That doesn't surprise me," mumbled Anthony.

"Anyway, it's gettin' a bit stuffed in here," Hagrid looked around with a nod. "I wanted ter show yeh lot somethin' outside." After a bit of careful maneuvering, the group made their way outside to see the patch of pumpkins Hagrid had been growing for Halloween. Most were quite simply enormous, far bigger than any Harry had ever seen in the Muggle world.

"These are huge, Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed. "Are these some sort of magical pumpkins? Or did you use some sort of magical dirt?"

Hagrid chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Sure, sure, somethin' like that."

Hermione inspected the pumpkins carefully and turned to Hagrid with a small smile on her face. "It looks more like the work on an Engorgement Charm. Expertly performed, as well."

"Brilliant!" Padma enthused, poking at a pumpkin. "Are you going to turn them into an enormous, monstrous pumpkin headed beast?"

Hagrid rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Now there's an idea. Can' say as I don' like it, though I'm no' sure how it could be done."

"Oh, Hagrid," Parvati shook her head, although she was clearly hiding a smile. "We had a monster at Halloween last year - the troll, remember? Do we really need another one?"

"Yes!" Padma said with the slightest touch of anger. "Why are you always hexing down my ideas? Anthony agrees with me, don't you?"

"Um, well," Anthony stammered a bit nervously. "Maybe it'd be better suited as a project for next Halloween. Only two months left this year until the holiday, after all."

"There you are, Padma," Hermione said. "A quite decent compromise, isn't it? Normal pumpkins this year, horrific violations of magic and morality next year."

Padma sighed. "Fine, I suppose that makes just a small amount of sense."

For a little while, the group stood around outside Hagrid's, just chatting mildly. Of course, a concerned Ron suddenly informed them that they hadn't eaten lunch yet. So they bid farewell to Hagrid and headed back to Hogwarts. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful; even Hermione admitted there wasn't enough classwork yet to require a session of their study group.

Soon enough, it was time for bed, and after a quick change by himself in the washroom, Harry slipped readily under the covers. Parvati and Lavender had already fallen soundly asleep, although Hermione was reading a book to help her relax, as per usual.

But just as Harry was beginning to slip into blissful slumber, he heard something pierce his ears, a voice of coldness and venomous all the same.

"_Let me find you... Let me rip you... Let me kill you... I will find you. I always find you..._"

Harry shot up in bed. "What?" he screamed. "What was that?"

Parvati and Lavender looked up, startled awake.

"Harriet, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, not yet asleep herself.

"Didn't you hear that?" Harry demanded. "That voice?"

"What voice?" Lavender asked blearily. "I heard you scream, but that's all."

"I didn't hear anything," Hermione informed him. "And I wasn't even asleep."

"But..." Harry stopped and tried to listen for the voice again... but nothing could be heard. "I know I heard something. A horrid voice, saying it wants to kill someone."

"Was it You-Know-Who?" Lavender clutched her pillow fearfully.

Parvati walked out of her bed and walked over to Harry, putting an arm around him. "It's okay, Harriet," she soothed, patting him on the shoulder. "Do you think maybe it was a nightmare?"

"Um, I don't think so," Harry said slowly, a bit taken aback at the physical contact. "I'm sure I heard it - I don't think I had fallen asleep yet."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked skeptically. "It's hard to know when one has crossed the boundary into dreaming."

"Well, I suppose it's _possible _I dreamed it," Harry allowed. "But it seemed so real. So cold and angry."

Parvati hugged Harry. "I think it was just a nightmare, Harriet. But if you hear it again while you're awake, and not snoozing in History class, let us know. It'll be okay." She smiled at him. "Are you going to be okay sleeping by yourself?"

"Yes, yes," Harry said quickly. It didn't seem appropriate for him to be in the same bed as a girl his own age. "I'm fine by myself - favor it, actually. No offense, just how I prefer things."

Parvati nodded and squeezed his shoulder, then slid off the bed and went back to her own. "In that case," she said with a yawn. "I say we all just get some sleep. As Hermione is surely aching to say, we do have class tomorrow morning."

Hermione glared at her roommate. "Stop that." Then she snickered. "Although you're actually precisely right."

Harry sighed. "Okay, okay. I am pretty tired, anyway." Although Harry kept his attention on the sounds as he began to asleep, he heard nothing else, and slipped completely into a deep sleep.

* * *

The rest of the month sped by in a fairly consistent manner to the prior year, with the only significant change that Anthony often joined their study groups. Lockhart continued to teach in his odd but innovative style, always helping the class in coming up with their own solutions to battle various Dark creatures. The other classwork was just a bit harder than the first year's, but it wasn't anything too difficult - although several professors promised that would change soon enough.

It was in the middle of October when a typical study session was interrupted by an unexpected, but familiar face.

"Hullo everyone!" It was Susan Bones, the friendly Hufflepuff girl their year. After that first bizarre Herbology lesson, the Hufflepuffs had been nothing been friendly, and Harry had almost forgotten all about their odd overtures.

Parvati perked up and waved. "Hi Susan! What are you doing here?"

Hermione rolled her eyes for some reason, but Susan seemed not to see it.

"Oh, do you remember when we were talking about your study group a few weeks ago?"

"Do I?" Parvati exclaimed just loudly enough for Pince not to hear her. "Of course! Are you saying you want to try studying with us?"

Huffing a bit, Hermione rolled her eyes again.

Susan jumped up and down a bit. "Ooh, I would love too. Harriet, is that okay with you?"

"Um," Harry looked over the rest of the group. Ron had a suspicious look on his face while Lavender seemed quite bored, and Neville looked like he was refusing to listen to them at all. Odd.

"Well, I don't mind," said Harry carefully. "We do get a bit crowded here, but if it's okay with everyone else..."

"Of _course _it is," insisted Parvati, glaring at everyone else.

"Pff..." Lavender scoffed. "I suppose so. Maybe just this once."

Harry blinked in surprise at this uncharacteristic unpleasantness.

"Yes, I agree with Lavender," Ron said, still looking bizarrely annoyed. "Just this once."

Neville grunted. "Just leave me out of this."

"What's going on here?" Harry asked in confusion. "Why are you all acting so strangely?" He turned to Susan. "Sorry, I'm not sure why they're acting so... weird."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Susan said hurriedly. "Maybe another time."

Parvati cleared her throat. "Nonsense. Everyone is perfectly okay with it, aren't you _everyone_?" The other Gryffindors made various sounds of agreement, although not exactly very pleasant ones.

"I do not care at all," Padma said with a very bored tone. "Just don't be too stultifying if you don't mind."

For his part, Anthony just shrugged with a confused smile.

"Great!" Susan said, and pulled up a chair next to Harry. She smiled at him. "So what are you studying?"

"Potions review," Hermione said immediately, then blinked as if this answer had surprised her. She shook her head. "Sorry, but yes that's what we've been reviewing."

For the rest of their study session, things proceeded fairly typically, with Susan trying to interject when appropriate. She seemed to Harry almost desperate for his approval, although he couldn't be sure. But of course, Harry didn't dislike the girl at all, and she seemed pleasant enough - he just couldn't figure out what she seemed to want.

The next study group was just the core group again, although Harry wouldn't have particularly minded someone else... although nine people was a bit much even in the Hogwarts library. At one point, Harry asked Parvati why the other Gryffindors had been kind of mean to Susan.

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing at all," Parvati had said dismissively. "Susan's a lovely girl, don't you think? Bright, but not _too _bright, if you follow me."

"I guess," Harry had replied, although he didn't get it at all. But in the scheme of things, it wasn't such a big deal. And so life continued without any additional Hufflepuffs, although Harry wondered if Susan would ever return. But considering how rude most of his friends had been, he wouldn't blame the Hufflepuff for not trying again.

Before he knew it, October had sped by and Halloween had arrived. Considering the exciting troll drama of their first year, everyone wondered how this year could possibly top a vicious monster attack.

"I say, it'll be _two _trolls," Ron insisted as they all walked to the Halloween feast.

Neville snorted. "You're limiting your imagination quite a bit, aren't you? Why not three trolls?"

"Why not indeed?" Ron proclaimed pompously.

Lavender burst into giggles. "I don't think we'll be attacked - I think someone will prank the Slytherin's hair to a different color, like Gryffindor red!"

"That's silly and barely a prank at all," Hermione scoffed. "If _I _was pranking the Slytherins..." She stopped as everyone looked at her.

"Go on," Parvati encouraged with a bright smile.

"Never mind," Hermione grumbled.

Harry shook his head and clucked his tongue. "You'll never be the Prank Queen of Hogwarts with that attitude, Hermione."

Hermione bit her lip and shook her finger at Harry, looking as if she was trying not to laugh.

But as they sat down and enjoyed a delicious Hogwarts repast, it seemed nothing out of the ordinary would occur. Eventually, Harry finished his food first and stood.

"I think I'll go visit our Ravenclaw gang. Probably Luna too. Anyone interested?"

"Sure," Parvati said. "I'm basically done, anyway."

"Not me," Lavender said. "I haven't even had dessert yet."

"That's the spirit!" Ron grinned cheerily.

"I suppose I'll come as well," Hermione said slowly, getting up as well. "Perhaps I can prevent you from getting into another fight with Mandy Brocklehurst."

"You can try," Harry said in an overly serious tone. "But some things are just meant to be."

Hermione rolled her eyes but still smiled at the silly antics.

At the Ravenclaw table, Luna was sitting next to Padma, who was sitting across from Anthony. Mandy and Lisa were nearby, and Mandy stiffened when she was the Gryffindors walking over. She glanced over at a Ravenclaw prefect and frowned deeply.

"Hold on, hold on," Harry said, raising up his hands. "I'm not here for anything nutty. Just talking to some friends."

"That's nice, Not-Harriet!" Luna beamed. "I have a napkin ready for when Mandy throws pumpkin juice at you again." She waved a clean napkin like a small flag.

Mandy groaned. "Morgana..."

"So how's Hogwarts as a first year?" Parvati asked quickly to Luna. "Making lots of friends?"

"Not really," Luna answered with a smile. "But I've kept the friends I had before Hogwarts!"

Hermione frowned and looked over at Mandy, who glared back at her. "Has anything... _odd_happened lately, Luna?"

Luna tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't think so," she said finally. "Although the Nargles have been around lately - they've stolen my socks again."

"What are Nargles?" Parvati asked curiously.

"Don't encourage her," Mandy hissed. "You all act so high and mighty, like you actually can stand her. All this talk of rackspluts and nergals. Nonsense!"

"What?" Harry blinked in confusion. "I thought they were called Nargles."

"They are," Padma informed him. "Mandy is mispronouncing the creature's names due to her inferior memory skills and crippled capabilities of general retention."

"Hey! You don't need to insult her," Lisa Turpin said with a frown.

Padma blinked and looked confused. "I wasn't being insulting. I was being honest."

"It's not honest to call Mandy stupid," Lisa seethed.

Mandy snorted. "Don't bother, Lisa. It'll never penetrate that thick skull of hers."

Padma turned to Harriet with a look of mild exasperation "Do you see how all the Ravenclaws make no sense at all? My skull is entirely within the standard bounds of deviation."

Anthony cleared his throat. "That's not entirely fair."

"Oh, I meant the Ravenclaw girls," Padma clarified. "But other than you, the boys as well."

Luna nodded.

"Stop that!" Mandy said angrily, her face starting to turn red. "Stop it right now!"

"Um, Harriet," Hermione tugged on Harry's sleeve. "Perhaps we ought to head back to our table. You'll have time to talk to Luna later."

"Hmm," Harry grunted. "I suppose."

"I'll keep the napkin safe for you, Not-Harriet," Luna said cheerfully.

"What is she even saying?" Mandy muttered.

But as they walked back to Gryffindor table, each of them with a frown on their face... Harry heard it.

_"… rip… tear… kill…"_

It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice he had heard weeks earlier.

Harry stumbled a bit, and stopped short, looking around wildly. He listened with his all of might for anything else.

"Harriet, what is it?" Parvati said in concern. "Are you -"

Harry held up a hand. "Hold on. It's that voice again — shut up a minute —"

_"… soo hungry… for so long…"_

"Listen!" said Harry urgently, and Parvati and Hermione froze, watching him.

_"… kill… time to kill…"_

The voice was growing fainter. Harry was sure it was moving away — moving downward - or maybe upward? What could it be? Was it some sort of ghost?

"This way," he shouted, and he began to run out of the entrance hall and up the marble staircase to the first floor. Parvati was close behind him, and Hermione was just a bit further, having grabbed their other Gryffindor friends.

Harry stopped short and looked around.

"Where... are we going?" Parvati panted as she leaned against a wall.

Ron walked over, looking very confused. "Harriet, what're we —"

"SHH!" Harry put a finger on his lips and Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: "_… I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!"_

His stomach lurched —

"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted and bolted again.

"What's going to kill what?" Ron yelled as they ran after Harry again, but Harry ignored them as he ran completely around the second floor until he reached a deserted passage.

"Harriet, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything…"

"Did you say you heard a voice?" Parvati asked in concern. "The same one you thought was a dream? I didn't hear anything... maybe a faint whistling, I suppose."

But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.

"Look!"

Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

Lavender shrieked. "What is that?" She pointed at a bizarre, frozen figure standing in a puddle of water.

"Oh no, oh no!" Parvati screeched. "That's Filch! Is he dead?"

By now, the other Hogwarts students had come, following the commotion. The passageway began to crowd quickly, as everyone pushed to get a better view at the caretaker, who looked completely stiff with an expression of horror on his face.

And then someone began to laugh and then a shout rang out through the crowd. "Enemies of Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!" It was Malfoy, who pushed his way to the front of the students. He sneered at the Gryffindors.

"Watch your bloody mouth, Malfoy!" Ron shouted. "Don't you dare say that!"

"Say what, Weasley?" Malfoy said languidly. "Mmm... mudbloods?" He drew out the word for a few seconds.

Ron moved to jump forward, but Neville grabbed him before anything could happen.

"What was that word?" Harry whispered to Parvati. "I don't remember what it means."

Parvati's lips tightened and she looked quite furious. "It's an awful word, Harriet. I'll explain later."

"Would you two stop your nattering?" Malfoy said with another sneer. He snorted at Neville holding Ron. "And look at you two... Ridiculous. But maybe it won't just be the Mudbloods. After all, Filch was first - a Squib! That means you're next Longbottom! You can finally go to St. Mungo's for a family reunion!"

Suddenly there was a loud crack, and Malfoy was on the ground, holding a bloody nose. Neville stood over him, looking extremely angry.

"Way to go Neville!" Ron said vehemently as Crabbe and Goyle came forward, brandishing their enormous fists.

"What is going on here?" It was Professor Dumbledore, so everything quickly settled down. He looked at the still form of Filch and his eyes became quite worried. He walked over to the still figure of Filch and pulled out his wand, carefully scrutinizing the caretaker.

McGonagall and several other teachers arrived then. "Albus? What is all the commotion?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Prefects, please escort students to your Houses immediately. Further instructions will follow as soon as the staff finishes discussions. Go on then! Everyone, now!"

The crowd dispersed slowly, although a palpable sense of curiosity was in the air.

"I don't understand," Hermione said worriedly. "What happened?"

Parvati shook her head. "I don't know. I suppose McGonagall will tell us later. Hopefully."

"But what was that word Malfoy used again?" Harry blinked as he remembered something. "I think Dumbledore told me it was a very offensive word for muggleborns."

Ron scowled. "It's about the worst thing you can call them," he said. Then he grinned and patted Neville on the back. "But I have to say, I _did _quite enjoy seeing Neville break Malfoy's nose."

Lavender laughed. "That's a silver lining if I've ever heard one."

Inside the Gryffindor Common Room, everyone waited impatiently for any word from the Professors. Finally, McGonagall arrived, looking quite exhausted.

"All right, is everyone present?" She asked a nearby prefect, who nodded. "Good. This is going to be a simple explanation. I'll answer what questions I can. Mr. Filch is not dead, but he was petrified with an unknown spell. We are still investigating the cause, and I am sure we will figure it out quite soon. Luckily, Professor Sprout has been growing mandrakes, as many of you know, which can be used in a restorative potion. In a few weeks, Filch will be completely recovered."

"A shame," Ron muttered.

"Watch your mouth, Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall snapped. "This is serious business. There will be no changes in any standard practices - you will all attend classes as normal. Detention goes on if already assigned, all homework due, and so on. Are there any questions?"

Instantly the students began to barrage the Professor with questions, and the room began to get into a bit of an uproar.

Suddenly Harry realized he was too tired to deal with the hassle and slipped quietly up the stairs to his room. But there was a surprise waiting for him - Dobby the house elf was sitting on his bed, looking very worried.

"Harriet Potter!" Dobby burst into tears. "Oh, Harriet Potter is safe! Dobby was so worried."

"Dobby..." Harry blinked his eyes and then shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Okay, well I guess I'm glad you're here. Is this attack on Filch related to the danger you warned me about?"

Dobby winced and smacked his head against the wall.

"Stop!" Harry shouted and then sighed. "Okay, let me think for a second."

"Harriet Potter is still in danger," Dobby said sadly. "She should leave Hogwarts."

"I can't do that," Harry told the house-elf, shaking his head. "Besides all my friends are here. Are they in danger too?"

Dobby his his face and whimpered.

"Dobby, I need your help," Harry pleaded. "Think about what's already happened!"

The house elf twitched and he seemed about to burst into tears.

Harry sighed. "Okay, okay, I get it Dobby. But how about this: just keep an eye on things and if you need to give me or my friends a warning, just tell us somehow - in a way that isn't disobeying your Masters."

Dobby looked up. "Dobby will try," he said slowly. "It will be hard, but Dobby will try his best. Please, Harriet Potter, be careful!"

"I will, I promise," Harry told him sincerely, entirely meaning it. "Now, you probably should head home before anyone noticed, right?"

"Harriet Potter is correct," Dobby said with a small smile. "Dobby is glad Harriet is so smart. Dobby must go - be safe Harriet Potter!" He waved a finger at Harry and then vanished.

Harry collapsed on his bed and sighed. "Great. Just great."

* * *

_Next time, a mystery and another mystery._

_"That's gotta be it!" Ron said angrily. "It's gotta be Sirius Black!"_

_"Um," Harry began slowly. "Who's Sirius Black again?"_

* * *

**Author's Post Note: I just want to say thank you to everyone who's still keeping up with this story, even through the long delay. I hadn't forgotten about it, but you know how things go sometimes. I'm always grateful when people enjoy my stories, so thanks again.**


	14. 14: The Hufflepuff Conundrum

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Quick Author's Pre-Note: Yes, I know. I also have an idea that I'll pose at the post-chapter-note, but you'll have to read the whole thing before you get there (that's how the Internet works, right?).**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE HUFFLEPUFF CONUNDRUM**

* * *

The next day, the school was abuzz with rumors and gossip about the attack on Filch and the mysterious Chamber of Secrets. Naturally, the study group was no exception, and when they reconvened in the library after breakfast, Hermione and the Ravenclaws immediately went to work grabbing every available book they could that might tangentially relate to the Chamber. Hermione had even insisted on borrowing Anthony's copy of _Hogwarts: A Histor_y, as she had left hers at home to make room for all her Lockhart books.

"There's very little here," Hermione finally said after nearly an hour of intensely flipping through pages. "In fact, as far as I can tell, there are no references to this Chamber at all."

"I've found a few references to 'the legend of Slytherin's horror'," Anthony put in, looking up from his own pile of books. "Perhaps it's related. The legend of the Chamber of Secrets is supposed to have something to do with Slytherin, right?"

Padma nodded while still reading two books simultaneously. "Yes, Anthony. In the old tales, the Heir of Slytherin is the only one who can unleash the... did you say horror?"

"Yeah," Anthony answered.

"I think that's the best way to put it," Padma agreed.

Lavender shivered and grabbed Harry's hand for comfort, surprising him a bit.

"A horror," the girl repeated slowly. "How awful!"

Harry patted Lavender's hand and smiled at her. "No need to worry. It's probably just something they would've considered a horror way back then - you know, like a dragon or other large creature."

Ron laughed. "Have you forgotten the nonsense with Norbert last year? Little bugger almost bit my hand."

"What a shame that would've been," Parvati snarked, rolling her eyes. "You'd only be able to eat half as much food."

"You know, I don't really eat that much," Ron insisted. "I'm a bit tired of everyone saying I'm constantly hungry." After he said this, a distinct grumbling came from his stomach. "Ah, hell," Ron grumbled while Neville and Lavender burst into helpless laughter.

"Language!" Hermione said distractedly. "Anyway, it's a mystery all right. Who is the Heir? What is this 'horror'? What happened to Filch anyhow?"

Parvati's eyes glinted mischievously. "Did you say Mystery?" She overemphasized the word a bit.

"Oh, I don't know," Lavender said in a worried voice. "This seems dangerous."

"Precisely!" Hermione proclaimed, smiling at Parvati. "We do need a research project for this year, don't we?" She frowned suddenly. "That reminds me. Harriet, whatever happened to that research _you_ were doing with your mother's work?"

It took a moment for Harry to remember that this was the lie had used to refer to his Curse. "That's a good question," he admitted. "I'm a bit stuck. I should probably talk to the Headmaster about it the next chance I get."

"If you need any help..." Hermione smiled widely. "You know we're all willing to pitch in. Some more than others."

Ron rolled his eyes. "That sounds like an insult at me. Maybe I'd be great at research, you ever figured that?"

"Brilliant!" Hermione tossed a book in Ron's lap. "Why don't you look for anything about the Chamber or Slytherin's horror?"

"Gotta stop talking so much," Ron muttered, but began to skim through_ Mysteries of the Founders_.

"I'd love to get help," Harry told them honestly. "But unfortunately, this isn't something you can help with. Family secrets and all that," he added in a burst of inspired lying. After all, the Curse prevented them from even understanding his "problem" - and Harry realized suddenly that he really had been getting a bit too comfortable not worrying about it.

"Still, the Chamber is a good Mystery for us, right gang?" Parvati gestured a bit widely at the group.

"Padma only explained a bit to me about your mystery last year," said Anthony, scratching his nose. "Something about the details being confidential."

Hermione rolled her eyes and made a huffing sound. "Ridiculous. It's not like you're Malfoy or anything. I sincerely doubt we have anything to worry from discussing last year's Mystery."

"And that's another thing!" Parvati exclaimed and shook a finger at the Ravenclaw boy. "It's not a mystery. It's a _Mystery_."

Anthony blinked at her. "I don't see the distinction. You just stressed the word more the second time."

"Tsk tsk," Lavender scolded with a smile. "Leave it to a Ravenclaw to miss the obvious. Right, boys?"

"Oh, no question," Ron agreed immediately. "Utterly obvious."

"Right, right," said Neville with a nod. "Too true, too true."

"Sometimes I'm surprised we ever get anything done," Hermione muttered, almost too softly for Harry to hear.

Harry leaned over and whispered, "That's because we're lucky enough to rely on your spectacular research skills."

Hermione's lips quirked a bit. "_Well_." She shook her head and went back to perusing her books for something useful.

"Oh, look!" Lavender sat up straight and waved. "Hannah! Hannah Abbott! Over here!"

Sure enough, it was the shy, pigtailed Hufflepuff, clutching her books and looking quite nervous. "Hullo there," she said softly.

"Eh, what was that?" Ron asked.

Lavender smacked him on the arm. "Don't be rude"

Ron gave her a wounded look. "I wasn't being rude – honestly, I couldn't make out what she said."

"Well, alright then," Lavender said, looking carefully at Ron's face. "I suppose that's fair enough."

Harry glanced around and rolled his eyes. More of this nonsense again? "Listen, Hannah," he said quickly. "Would you like to study with us?"

Hannah burst into a huge smile, but then she bit her lip. "Are you sure that's okay?"

"Yes, yes," Harry replied before anyone else could say anything. Lavender beamed at him, although Parvati seemed slightly uncomfortable. But when Harry caught her eye, she smiled at him and then started to work on some parchment. He looked over at Ron and Neville, and while the former was pretending to read his book, Neville was pretending to both read and not pay attention to anyone else. He kept looking up at Hannah every so often, who seemed to notice, because she kept doing the same thing.

All the while, Lavender chattered away meaninglessly, filling the air with nonsense, in direct opposition to Hannah's various incoherent mumbles and nods. Feeling more than a little suspicious that there was some sort of trick being playing on him, Harry leaned over to Hermione.

"What's going on with Hannah?" He asked in a whisper.

Hermione started in surprise. "Um, nothing," she said with an almost unnoticeable stutter. "Did you think of anything new about the Chamber?" She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I've been trying to figure out what could've attacked poor Filch. It had to be something that petrified him into that unmoving, stiff form we saw."

"Filch wasn't petrified," Padma remarked without looking up.

Lavender stopped talking at Hannah and looked over. "What was that?"

"Padma," Hermione said with just a hint of anger. "If you wish to blatantly contradict me like that, at least have the common courtesy to explain yourself."

Padma raised her head and seemed slightly pleased to have gotten a reaction out of Hermione. "Filch wasn't turned into stone. If he had been, then we could have assumed that the attack was from a transfiguration attack or a creature, such as a gorgon or a cockatrice. Or maybe even svartálfar!"

"Gorgons have been extinct for a thousand years," Anthony put in. "And cockatrices don't actually turn people to stone, they're just vicious killer lizard-bird hybrids."

"What about that other thing?" Parvati asked. "The svartel... fer?"

"She said svartálfar," Hermione corrected. "But I don't know what they are."

Ron scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "They aren't real. There's no such thing as evil elves. Just a story my Mum told us to get us to behave."

Padma frowned at him. "That's not what_ The Quibbler_ said!"

"Enough!" Hermione cut in. "We don't want to get into that one again. The point,_ Padma and Anthony_, is that petrification can also mean to make rigid like a stone. Not just literally into stone."

Anthony nodded and smiled at her. "You're right, Hermione! I had forgotten that." He brushed back his hair. "But even so, I can't think of anything - spells, monsters, or otherwise, that can cause the petrification Filch has experienced."

"Hmph," Harry grunted crossly. He still wasn't sure what was going on, but at least they were back to something a bit more interesting. The questions about what could be causing the petrification struck Harry as he realized that Dobby might be able to hint at the culprit. Well, next time the elf showed up, Harry decided he'd ask - and maybe even about that dark elf legend Ron had sneered at.

* * *

Even after a full day of classes had passed, there was nothing else the school seemed to be talking about. Harry had gotten a bit sick of it and decided to sneak down to breakfast early, while the girls were still asleep or getting ready for the day. The Hall was mainly deserted, and the only other people Harry recognized at the Gryffindor table were Percy Weasley, studiously reading a book while eating his breakfast, and little Colin Creevey, sitting by himself.

"Hullo, Harriet!" Colin waved frantically as Harry sat down. The short boy left his breakfast and jogged over to where Harry was sitting (intentionally by himself).

"Mornin', Colin," Harry said with a sort of bemused acceptance. "How are classes?"

"They're hard!" Colin said with an enormous smile. "A lot of homework. But it's worth it to be able to do magic, right?"

Harry nodded. "Can't argue with that."

Colin looked around as if he was searching for someone, then leaned over. "I've been keeping an eye on Ginny, like you asked," he whispered.

"What?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Yeah, like you asked," Colin repeated. "I think she's up to something, Harriet. She's gotten a lot meaner - she used to answer all of my questions, but now she ignores or insults me."

Harry could almost understand Ginny's reaction - in fact, ignoring seemed reasonable enough, but insulting the kid seemed a bit much. "Really? She's actually being mean to you? That's not right; I'll talk to her about it."

"Oh no no no!" Colin protested, waving his hands in the air frantically. "I don't want you two to fight! I'm sure I just did something to annoy her. That's what everyone else tells me, anyway."

There was something oddly troubling about that statement, but Harry didn't really feel like getting into it. Honestly, Colin was sort of a pest at times, even if he seemed a decent sort at heart.

"Well, don't bother her," said Harry. "Ginny's probably just getting a bit overwhelmed with the sudden rush of work and all that. You should give her some space."

"That's a great idea, Harriet!" Colin enthused with a smile. He winked at Harry. "I read you loud and clear!" And before Harry could respond, Colin darted off from the Hall, hopefully not about to annoy Ginny again.

Several owls flew into the Hall, dropping off letters and several copies of the daily newspaper. The only one to get a copy at the Gryffindor table was Percy, who received one of the copies of the _Daily Prophet_ and paid the delivery owl before beginning to read it.

Harry stopped paying attention, listlessly playing with his porridge until the sounds of consternation and chatter became louder than normal, and then Percy Weasley gasped audibly. Harry glanced over at the prefect, who saw Harry looking. Percy quickly folded up the paper and left the table in what could best be described as a mild hurry.

After this happened, Harry couldn't help but notice that more than a few people in the Hall were staring at him while discussing something. Something that had apparently been in the newspaper, but there were no copies nearby for Harry to check unobtrusively.

"Good morning, Harriet! You're up and about early." It was Parvati, walking with the other two girls.

Lavender looked around and frowned. "Goodness, what's all this about?"

"Something in the newspaper," Harry explained. "At least I think so. But I don't have a copy to check."

"Hold on a moment," said Parvati, who then walked over to the Hufflepuff table where the first years had all arrived seemingly at the same time. She had a brief but energetic conversation with them, and walked sedately back with a newspaper under her arm. "Something big happened last night, but they had a House agreement not to talk about."

Hermione frowned, sitting down next to Harry. "A House agreement? I've never heard of that. It's not in_ Hogwarts: A History_."

"It wouldn't be," explained Parvati with a smile, sitting across from her. "This is one of those unwritten traditions, right? I'm sure Gryffindor has some too, not that we've heard about them, of course."

"So..." Lavender squeezed up close to Parvati. "Let's see the paper then!"

Parvati laid the newspaper out on the table so they could each see it. The large print of the headline proclaimed "_Sirius Black Escapes Azkaban!_" Almost immediately and at about the same time, Parvati and Lavender gasped loudly. But Hermione had no particular reaction other than confusion, although after only a few seconds, she had finished reading the entire front page.

"Oh, dear!" she said, worrying her hands. "Can you flip to page 13?"

"Wait, I haven't read the article yet," protested Harry.

The girls each gave him a sympathetic look.

"We'll understand if you don't want to read anymore," Lavender told him.

Harry frowned. "No, I want to read it!" He leaned over to take a look at the headline article.

_The Daily Prophet has exclusively discovered that the infamous prisoner Sirius Black has escaped the supposedly impenetrable Azkaban prison. Black was noticed as missing during a routine monthly checkup in August, but the Ministry had not revealed this information to the public._

_Although he denied the rumors at first, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, admitted early this morning that Sirius Black has actually been at large possibly even longer than initially realised._

_"We are working quite diligently to recapture Black," Fudge told reporters. "And it is quite a shame that such sensitive state secrets were leaked before the villain could be apprehended."_

_When asked if the other rumors were true, that he had told the Muggle Prime Minister about Black's escape, Fudge stuttered a refusal, then cursed at reporters and ran off._

_For more on the clearly declining mental health of Fudge, turn to page 8._  
_For more on the sordid facts behind Black's heinous murders, turn to page 13._  
_For our exclusive interview with the original arresting Auror who vows to take Black down for good this time, turn to page 24._

"Blimey!" Ron said loudly, who had apparently appeared while Harry was reading the article. "You realize what this means, right?"

Hermione looked at him oddly, then gasped in shock. "Yes, I do! He must've been the one who attacked poor Filch."

"Poor Filch indeed," Lavender made a face. "Poor us, you mean. He's probably going to attack a student next!"

"Unless Filch was just caught by him - probably recognized him from Black's school days," Ron decided.

Parvati flipped through the newspaper hurriedly. "But how did he get into Hogwarts? There's nothing on the attack on Filch at all in here!"

Neville frowned and stroked his chin. "Well, he did go to Hogwarts for seven years. Maybe he discovered a secret entrance. There's a lot of old legends about that sort of thing. Maybe he attacked Filch and put up that message."

"But was he Slytherin?" Lavender asked. "I thought he was a Gryffindor."

"Does it matter?" Parvati spat angrily. "But you're right - he was disowned for being a Gryffindor. But I guess it was all a ruse, because obviously he's just a bloody Slytherin through and through. I suppose now we know who wrote that message and petrified Filch."

"That's gotta be it!" Ron said angrily. "It's gotta be Sirius Black!"

"Um," Harry began slowly. "Who's Sirius Black again?"

The others looked at him oddly.

Parvati pointed at the newspaper.

"I saw the article too!" Harry told her with a scowl. "And I get that he's escaped Azkaban and all that - I read that part already. But what did he do? And why do I get the feeling it's something to do with me?"

"Well, I don't know that much," Ron admitted. "I remember my dad and mum talking about him a bit ages ago. He was friends with your parents, Harriet, I think."

Harry blinked in surprise and frowned. "Really? But the paper says he's a murderer."

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, but I don't remember the details. Mum thought it was all a bit too much for us kids to hear."

"I know a bit," admitted Neville. "Apparently when Black killed all those Muggles -"

"He did what?" interrupted Harry in horror.

Parvati patted his hand and smiled at him in a calming way. "That's what he got sent to Azkaban for. He killed a bunch of people, Muggles and I think a few wizards too with a huge explosion curse."

"And... Azkaban is some sort of prison, right?" Harry asked, gesturing for the paper. "I don't think I've heard of it before today."

Ron shuddered a bit. "It's a terrible place. My dad had to go there once, and he said it was the worst feeling he'd ever had. All those Dementors and all."

"It's the wizarding prison," explained Hermione. "And the Dementors are the guards, they're some sort of highly dangerous magical creature."

"How'd you know that?" Lavender asked her in surprise.

Hermione gave her a withering look. "I read it in a book, of course."

Lavender giggled. "Oh. Right."

Harry read a bit more of the article on Sirius Black. Apparently the criminal had not only killed several Muggles, but had severely injured the wizards on the scene. And one wizard had also died, named Peter Pettigrew, who had received the Order of Merlin posthumously. Black had then seemed to go mad when the arresting Aurors (a word Harry didn't recognize, but he assumed it was the same thing as a Muggle police officer) and confessed to the crime for all to hear. The article also seemed to claim that both Black and Pettigrew were friends of his parents, but that couldn't be right.

"Neville, you were saying something about Black killing those Muggles, right?" Harry asked.

"That's right," agreed a slightly pale Neville. "I was going to say, when he killed those Muggles, he also killed a wizard."

"Peter Pettigrew, right? That's what the article said." Harry pointed to the page. "And he got something called an Order of Merlin."

Neville nodded.

"Oh yeah!" Ron leaned back and shook his head. "Now I remember. He was the first one in ages to get an Order, First Class. Big deal, that is."

"Hmm," Hermione looked down at her watch. "As much as I'd like to continue this discussion, we really should be going so we're not late for Potions."

Neville grimaced and quickly gathered up his things. "I'm going to head over right now, try to get an early start. See you there." He raced off before anyone could say anything.

Ron shook his head and sighed. "If I didn't already know he hated the class, I'd say the boy was getting a bit on the Ravenclaw side of things."

"Hardly a chance of that!" Lavender said with a laugh.

"I had wanted to ask him about this business of Pettigrew and Black knowing my parents," Harry said with a frown.

"You have plenty of time," Parvati told him soothingly. "Now let's head over there as well."

* * *

Potions was remarkably tense, even more than usual, as Professor Snape seemed just as disturbed by the news of Black's escape as everyone else - with the exception of the Slytherin students. Although, Harry reflected, that was not so odd, given that the Heir of Slytherin was supposedly on the loose.

The Slytherin girls, whose names Harry still couldn't remember besides Pansy Parkinson (although in fairness, he didn't really remember any of the boys either, with Malfoy as the one exception) kept giving him odd glares throughout the class. But it almost devolved further than that.

Harry tended to switch up his Potions partners, with Hermione tending to be the best and Neville the worst, although he was far from the mess he'd been in first year. Neville was still terrified of Snape, who was well aware of how he affected the students. When Harry paired with someone, Snape tended to be _slightly_ less awful to the other Gryffindor, although not necessarily. It was incredibly easy for Snape to goad Ron or Parvati in particular into talking back at his little jibes, leading to a loss of points. Harry would sometimes get points back, although never enough to match the deficit.

And the compliments from Snape were always coupled with insults, in the vein of "It's too bad the other Gryffindors are so incompetent" - even Hermione had to suppress her anger at that remark. This particular class Harry had ended up working with Lavender, who was a bit below his own level, so they worked well together.

But at some point about halfway through their work, the girl working with Pansy (they were sitting behind the two Slytherin girls) said something in an almost whisper. Harry wasn't quite able to make it out, but she was looking right at them.

"What did you say, Davis?" Lavender asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Ears burning, Brown?" Pansy sneered at the Gryffindor girl. "Think you lot are so interesting we can't help but talk about you? Perhaps you think we can't stop talking about your little group of blood traitors and peasants?"

"Watch your mouth, you bloody little twat!" Lavender hissed back.

Pansy snarled audibly. "You're the twat, you twat!"

"What's all this?" It was Snape, looking quite annoyed at the commotion. "Miss Brown, stop bothering your betters and focus on your work. Five points from Gryffindor for disturbing other students' work."

Lavender bit her lip and looked like she was tried to blink back a tear.

Harry couldn't help but catch Snape's eye for a moment, but the Professor hurriedly turned away and continued pacing through the classroom.

"It's all right," whispered Harry to Lavender and then, in a fit of sudden inspiration, he patted her hand and smiled at her. Ought to do the trick.

Lavender smiled slightly and nodded, holding Harry's hand for a moment with both of hers. "We should finish up," she then told him.

"Bring forward your completed Ablative Protective - if you've even managed it, that is," Snape told the class with a haughty sneer.

When Neville walked forward, Malfoy tried to trip him in an obvious manner. Neville managed to avoid falling, but he dropped his potion (which appeared relatively decent, all things considered) on the floor, creating a film of hardened silver in an instant.

"Mister Longbottom!" Professor Snape snapped furiously. "What manner of incompetence have you sunk to now? That will take an hour of careful work to dispose of safely. I'd assign you detention to clean it up if you were capable of the cleaning spells required. Twenty points from Gryffindor for ignoring vital safety requirements. And a zero for you and Mister Weasley for incomplete work, of course."

At this, Ron, who had been working with Neville, glared at Snape and almost said something before apparently thinking better of it. He then glared at Malfoy, who merely ignored them. But then Neville slowly turned to look at Malfoy, not with anger, just with focus. Malfoy clearly noticed, although he pretended not to, hurrying out of the classroom.

As they prepared to leave, the Professor cleared his throat. "Miss Potter, a word, if you will."

Harry nodded. "I'll see you guys at lunch", he said to his friends.

"Okay," Parvati told him with a small smile. "See you there." She started to walk away with Lavender.

Neville looked over at Snape with a slightly pale face, then hurried off after them.

"Please have a seat, Miss Potter."

Harry pulled out a chair and sat in the front row. He thought he might have a pretty good idea of what this what about. "Professor, is this about Sirius Black?"

Snape's lip curled and he had a sudden look of utter hatred flash on his face before he calmed himself. "Yes, precisely," he told Harry. "I am sure I am the only one who will not coddle you with friendly lies and false comforts, when you are old enough to know the truth. Are you not?"

"Um," Harry paused for a minute. "I think so. I mean I don't know what the truth is, other than that Black was a friend of my parents and escaped Azkaban. Oh, and he killed another friend of theirs and a bunch of Muggles."

"Do not be flippant," Snape told him harshly.

"I'm not!" Harry protested, holding up his hands. "It's just a lot to take in... and you know, I never even heard about Sirius Black until I got to Hogwarts. I don't know anything about him, really."

Snape nodded. "It is not a pleasant subject, nor one suited for young ears. But you deserve to know, regardless of what Minerva thinks."

"Professor McGonagall? She doesn't want me to know about Sirius Black?" Harry was surprised at this revelation.

"No, she does not - we had a bit of a disagreement about it this morning, but the Headmaster concurred with me that you were mature enough to know the truth, which Professor McGonagall did not particularly wish to get into. But she knows I am speaking about the subject with you."

Harry considered this and nodded. "Okay, sir. What is the truth, then? Is the _Daily Prophet_ incorrect about something?"

The Potions Professor snorted in derision. "That rag is filled with lies. But in this particular instance, its reported story is more or less accurate, give or take a few details." He took a calming breath. "In a way, this is more my story to tell than anyone else, as I alone have the most details. You know that I was friends with your mother when we started at Hogwarts, correct?"

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "But... well..." he paused, unsure of how to continue.

"We had a falling out, as I assume you are thinking about," Snape confirmed somberly. "Which had unfortunate repercussions all around, I am afraid. Neither one of us had any friends when we first came to the school; in fact, we met a little while before. We grew up in the same neighborhood, a Muggle city called Cokeworth. My father was a Muggle, you see, and insisted on living away from wizards, and Mother... well, she argued frequently with him, but she always let him have his way.

"Naturally," Snape continued. "She did not neglect my magical education, despite my father's hatred of all things magical." He gave Harry a look. "An attitude I suppose you may find familiar."

"Yeah," Harry said in agreement. "The Dursleys were actually abnormally afraid of even the word 'magic' - they got mad if I even mentioned a fairytale from school or the telly. But I didn't even know magic was real."

"We do not need to compare difficult upbringings, Miss Potter," Snape cut in softly. "That is a game no one wins. In any event, when we travelled to Hogwarts, we ran into four friends on the Express. Your father and his three compatriots. He was an arrogant sot, even then - in fact he was quite a bully, and Lily did not like him any more than I did. At least not at that point.

"As for his other friends, there was Remus Lupin, bookish and more an enabler than anything else. He was made Prefect ostensibly to keep his less mature friends in check, but he failed consistently. Then there was little Peter Pettigrew, less talented and less intelligent than the other three, but just as much a bully - that is, when standing next to them. Otherwise he was cowardly and harmless."

"He's the one Sirius Black killed, right?" Harry asked.

Snape nodded. "Yes. Because Sirius, unlike the others, was a sociopath from the start - he fooled nearly everyone with his seeming sanity, but he honestly did not care about anyone else." The Professor then had a bit of a strained look on his face. "I will admit that your father was not actually evil at heart, although he was still a spoiled prat for the majority of his life. He did mature enough for Lily to marry him, after all." This looked like it had taken a great deal of effort to say. "Not that he was good enough," added Snape. "But he wasn't Black - that one even fooled the Headmaster, although Albus realized his mistake too late."

Harry sat up in his chair. "What mistake? Trusting him?"

"Yes, the same mistake that led to leniency when Black set up a 'prank' that nearly killed me. Albus could not comprehend the concept of a Gryffindor actually trying to murder another student, although of course he now regrets that error. When your parents went into hiding, they trusted the secret of their location with him, a mistake that they paid for with their lives." Snape sighed. "I can easily picture the next part - a terrified Pettigrew, finally pushed to quasi-bravery by the betrayal of one he considered a dear friend, facing off against Black in a battle he could never win. And Black held nothing back, blowing up the entire street, killing several innocent Muggles as well."

This matched with what Harry had already heard, but there was a part of the story that was still a bit confusing. "Was he really crazy? Did he really confess to the murder?"

"Oh, Merlin only knows his true mental state," Snape scoffed. "I suppose if you wanted to be generous, you could argue that Black wasn't a willing traitor, but was tortured by the Dark Lady to reveal your location. That he was truly insane when they arrested him, but only due to that."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "But you don't believe that, do you?"

The Potions Professor quirked up his mouth slightly. "Obviously not. The man had always been the worst sort in Hogwarts, but dismissed as adolescent tomfoolery."

"Sir, do you know... is he the Heir to Slytherin?"

Snape was silent for a few moments. "Truly, I do not know. None of us do, but it would not surprise me at all. Minerva is still resistant to the theory that a Gryffindor, even one gone to seed like Black, could be the Heir of Slytherin. But the idea that a true Slytherin might hide in the one place no one would expect - Gryffindor - is a compelling one. The House of Black is a very old pureblood family, and is no doubt intertwined with many other families, so it is more than possible Slytherin is connected. However, as far as I know, the only Heir to Slytherin in recent memory was the Dark Lady herself."

Harry blinked. "Oh, well that makes a lot of sense. Do you think it's actually her, like last year? Maybe she possessed Sirius Black so she could break him out of prison."

Snape paled. "That is something I had not considered. I must speak with the Headmaster about this immediately."

"It's just a theory," Harry insisted hurriedly. "I mean, I have no idea."

"No, no," Snape said, packing together a few things. "It was well reasoned, Miss Potter, if incredibly worrying. Please make your way to lunch, and be careful navigating the castle - always ensure that someone else is about. I doubt Black will attempt anything in the day, so you must be especially vigilant at night. Understood?"

Harry nodded and got up to leave, his head spinning with the revelations of Black.

* * *

It wasn't too difficult for Harry to convince the others that what he learned from Snape could wait until they weren't surrounded by the rest of the school.

"I can tell you one thing," he said in a low voice as they piled into the History classroom. "Since it's just us until Seamus and Dean show up."

Hermione perked up and then got a bit of a sly look. "Go on then, Harriet."

Harry looked around, but the only other one in the room was Professor Binns, who never seemed to even notice them until the class began - and not really that much even then. "Since Sirius wasn't in Slytherin, I asked if maybe Sirius was being possessed by the _real_ Heir, if you know what I mean."

Neville paled. "You mean... You-Know-Who?"

"Exactly," Harry replied with a nod. "They hadn't even thought of it, so Snape ran off to talk with Professor Dumbledore about it."

"Wow, Harriet," Parvati said with admiration. "That was smart of you."

"What was so smart then?" It was Seamus Finnegan, who had just arrived with Dean Thomas. "Figured out a way to finally exorcise ol' Ghost Professor over there?"

"Don't be silly," Lavender told him with a giggle. "Just something about our homework."

Seamus made a face and shook his head in disgust. "You lot are always on about your precious homework."

Binns suddenly began to start talking, startling Seamus, who knocked his leg against a desk.

"Today we will begin our discussion of the International Warlock Convention of 1289, in which a great many important facts were discussed, from the Snidget controversy to the Celt/Romani proxy war that led to the Triwizard Tournament. We must first, of course, begin in November of one year prior, when Livonian wizards requested a change to the venue, specifically to a closer location. They wished to meet near the Magyars, but naturally the Turks disagreed."

Binns stopped speaking abruptly, and this was odd enough that it interrupted Harry's descent into his typical History nap. Hermione had put up her hand, which Harry had not recalled happening since their first year.

"Miss - er -?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets, or maybe the Heir of Slytherin. Are they connected to Sirius Black or his family?"

Parvati grinned widely. "Nicely done," she whispered to Harry. "Binns probably was around the first time it was opened!"

"Miss Granger, need I remind you that my subject is History of Magic, not Legends of Magic?" Binns responded in his dry, wheezy voice. "Nor should be we concerned with Cyrus Black, whoever that is. Unless you are thinking of the non-fictional Castor Black, scourger of the Urkdok goblin clan in the early 1400's, but we won't be covering that until next year." Binns cleared his throat. "Now to continue with our lesson plan, it was actually due to a minor battle between Turkish wizards and the pirate Darkhart of the Black Sea that... Yes, what is it now?"

Hermione stopped waving her hand. "Wouldn't you say, sir, that a knowledge of history is vital to understanding the world we live in?"

Binns frowned and had a suspicious look on his face. "Well, yes, of course, but -"

"And you'd certainly agree that Slytherin had an Heir, that's a historical fact, is it not?"

"Obviously," the Professor said slowly. "But the House of Slytherin fell into poverty four hundred years ago, so if an Heir remains alive, they do not control any significant assets."

"Of course," Hermione agreed quickly. "And Professor, if the Chamber of Secrets _does_ exist, it follows that only the Heir could access it?"

Professor Binns looked blearily back at her. "I don't know that that logically follows at all, Miss Gibbons. Hogwarts has been searched from lowest dungeon to highest tower throughout the years, and although certainly many hidden chambers were uncovered, there was nothing that was inaccessible with the right sorts of wizards around. It is far more likely that the theoretical Chamber of Secrets was merely a legend propagated from an actually existing room where Slytherin worked, probably an office or the like."

"But then how do you explain the attack on Filch and the warning?" Parvati asked.

"I wouldn't know anything about any vandalism, Miss Partridge," Binns told her with a scowl. "If you are curious about preventing Dark Magic, you should confer with your Defense professors."

"But weren't you around the last time it was opened?" Harry decided to get in on it - besides being informative, this little discussion was quite a bit more interesting than a typical History class.

"That is quite enough," Binns said sharply, showing more emotion than Harry had ever seen on him. "If you are referring to the attacks from decades ago, which I barely even remember, they were later proved to be due to attacks by an Acromantula accidentally allowed into the school. The beast was driven out of Hogwarts and the attacks ceased. Now then, we will return to the lesson - we've wasted _quite_ enough time already."

"Well, that was useless," Ron muttered as they all left afterwards.

"Oh, I wouldn't _quite_ say that," Hermione mused in a thoughtful manner. "Not at all."

"She's right," Parvati pointed out. "Remember what Binns said they thought caused the attacks?"

Harry nodded. "Something called an Acromantula - sounds like a spider, but I haven't heard the word before."

Ron shuddered. "Actually, I was trying not to remember that bit."

"Still," Parvati said brightly. "Ron's fear aside, it's a good thing to research, which means Hermione and the Ravenclaws will be happy!"

Lavender giggled loudly at Hermione's sudden glare.

"You are getting entirely too good at predicting my behavior," said Hermione sternly to Parvati.

"Hey, can you predict what I'm going to want to do next?" Ron asked with a big grin.

"Food, sleep, then food again," Neville said quickly.

Ron grumbled. "Lucky guess."

* * *

"And that's how I cursed that vampire to eat only lettuce - it was a roundabout way, you see. Vampires are frightfully difficult creatures to hurt or kill, but by affecting what it could eat..." Lockhart grinned widely as he looked over the class, trailing off as a sort of question.

"It didn't have the blood it needed to survive!" Lavender exclaimed. "Did it die right away?"

Lockhart tapped his chin in deep thought. "No, no, when it... that is, when I left the vampire, it was in a weakened state. I heard later that its new diet weakened it so severely it couldn't harm even a lowly Muggle child."

Hermione looked up from her notetaking with a frown. "You heard about that later? From whom?"

"Oh, you know, some Transylvanian villagers I kept in touch with," Lockhart said dismissively. "Grateful and all that, sending me owls with the latest news. Typical sort of thing for me," he added with another toothy grin.

"I see," murmured Hermione, almost too soft to be heard.

"Can you explain the curse you used?" Harry asked, wondering what was wrong with his brainy friend.

"Well, it's difficult to reproduce," admitted Lockhart. "The incantation is something along the lines of... let me see, what was it again?_ Comede lactucis tantum_, I believe. But it needs to be adjusted based on the situation - only works with vampires besides."

Hermione made an odd sound, like she was thinking about something, but nobody else reacted.

"But we don't need to get into that right now," the Professor said quickly. "Let's talk about some of the ways you might defeat or disable a vampire _without_ an advanced spell only an adult wizard could perform. Any thoughts? Yes, Mister Longbottom?"

After a few bit more back and forth as the class discussed various ideas on vampires, Lockhart ended the class by assigning a short essay on how they could defend against a group of vampires.

"Not kill them, mind you," he clarified. "For most, the best move is, after all, escape - but it's not so easy from even a single vampire, as we've discussed. Good luck!."

For the rest of the day, Hermione moped about, only responding to anything anyone said with soft hums of agreement or dissent. Finally when they convened in the library later with Padma and Anthony, she seemed almost depressed.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Anthony asked with concern.

Lavender made a clucking sound. "She's been like this since Defense. I don't know what's wrong with her."

Hermione seemed shocked at this remark. "Is it that obvious?"

Nobody said anything, and then Padma shrugged and replied, "No, I don't see anything out of the ordinary."

Parvati frowned. "She's obviously sad about something," she told her sister. "But I suppose you often don't notice that sort of thing."

Padma nodded and smiled slightly. "Yes, but what are the key indicators of sadness in Hermione Granger? Frowning is typical behavior for her during many instances of discussions not implied as 'sad', and she is not crying, an indicator I am aware of."

"Enough already!" Hermione said angrily, almost at a yell, and she closed her book with a huff. It was one of Lockhart's, _Voyages with Vampires_, the book they been discussing in class. She stood up and folded her arms without looking at anyone. "I'm not sad, I'm concerned."

"It's okay," Harry told her soothingly. "We aren't mad at you - just worried. What's wrong?"

Hermione sat back down and sighed.

"Wait a minute," Anthony said as he peered at Lockhart's book. "This is something about Lockhart, isn't it? The discrepancy with the dates for that book and_ Travels with Trolls_? I assumed it was a typographical error or just a less _accurate_ retelling of the events to make it more exciting. Those sorts of discrepancies are all over his books if you pay attention."

"Huh?" Lavender looked at him in confusion. "Are you saying someone's wrong with the Professor's books?"

"So you _did_ notice," Hermione said in obvious relief. "I thought I was going mad."

Padma tilted her head in what Harry recognized as classic "Padma is curious" fashion. "I don't think I understand the confusion. His books are fictional."

"No, they aren't!" Parvati insisted with a scowl. "They're travelogues - you know, thrilling true tales of his exciting adventures!" She looked over at the others. "Back me up here!"

Ron held up his hands quickly. "Don't look at me," he insisted. "I've barely read them."

"And I've only read the one we've been assigned in class," Neville put in. "And even then, just the chapters we get to."

"You know," said Harry slowly. "If they _weren't_ meant to be taken literally, that makes more sense. I had noticed some things that didn't seem possible a few times. But I assumed I had missed something; I skimmed a lot."

Hermione turned to Padma. "You interpreted the books as being fictional, you say? The entire time you've had them?"

Padma nodded, still looking confused. "Yes, of course. Was that not the point?"

"I assumed they were a mix of fiction and reality," said Anthony with a smile. He shrugged. "But I could be wrong."

"But... if they were meant to be taken literally." Hermione gasped. "That means Lockhart is hiding something - because then the books are impossible."

Parvati huffed in an annoyed manner. "Well, I don't see it that way at all. But I suppose if you must, consider it another _Mystery_ to investigate."

"Don't you think we have enough to worry about... you know, with the Chamber and all?" Neville asked hesitantly.

"If we get stuck on Chamber stuff, then we can try to figure out Lockhart's big secret," Lavender decided with a big smile. "Or if he even has one."

"He might just be lying in his books," Anthony pointed out. "It's just as likely as anything else."

"Say, is that...?" Ron looked up and over behind them. "It is! That Hufflepuff fellow Ernie something. Oi there Ernie, how are you doing?"

"It's actually Ernie Macmillan, as I'm sure you already know," the Hufflepuff in question said a bit stiffly. "How are you folks doing? I heard quite nice things from Hannah and Susan about your little study sessions already."

Harry frowned and slammed down his book. He looked over at his friends, who seemed to all be acting suspiciously. Neville and Ron weren't meeting his eyes, Hermione was pretending to read again, and both Lavender and Parvati were smiling a bit _too_ politely. The two Ravenclaws, though, seemed not to be acting any differently, so perhaps they weren't in on... whatever was going on.

"I think I see what's going on here," he said with the slightest touch of anger. "Ernie, care to explain?"

"Um," Ernie seemed surprised by the question.

"Right, of course," Harry stood quickly. "I doubt Hannah will say anything, wherever she is, because she barely talks in the first place. Perhaps you might know where Susan is?"

"I think she's just down the hall," Ernie answered and then looked embarrassed. "Wait, you don't need to say anything to her about this."

"I think I do," Harry told him. With just the barest nod to the others, Harry grabbed his things and rushed out of the library as fast as he could without Pince getting angry. He moved quickly through the corridors, keeping a careful eye, until he finally spotted Susan talking with Hannah and Justin, one of the other Hufflepuffs.

As he walked closer, Justin spotted him and clearly noticed Harry's frustration, because he looked quite pale suddenly.

"H-Harriet, how are you?" He managed to say when Harry came close.

Hannah said nothing, but her face was bright red.

"I'm fine," said Harry dismissively. "Susan, may I talk to you for a moment?"

The other two Hufflepuffs looked at Susan in concern, but she waved them off and smiled at Harry. "Of course, Harriet. Let's go take a walk to the Lake, how's that?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, that'll be fine."

Neither one said anything as they navigated through the school. As they finally walked a bit from the front gates, Susan turned to Harriet.

"So I assume you've figured it out?"

"Not exactly," admitted Harry. "But I know there's something going on with you four Hufflepuffs and my Gryffindor friends - seems like Anthony and Padma don't know about it."

Susan nodded and adjusted her robes slightly. "You're right, Harriet. Something is going on. What do you want to know?"

Harry stopped walked and looked straight at Susan, who looked back with what looked like a mix of confidence and apprehension.

"Everything."

* * *

_Next time, the game's afoot. And more than love is in the air._

_"What is it?" Hermione asked in concern. "What happened?"_

_Ron looked stricken and horribly pale. "It's Neville. He's in the Hospital Wing."_

**Author's Post Note:**

**As I've noted on my profile, I now have one those "tumblr" blogs the kids are all talking about. That'll be a good place to see my latest updates and the like (I'll be using a progress tracker in the header as well). Also, I was wondering about another idea to help keep me on a good update schedule - writing a chapter "in progress" using a live document. If anyone's interested in that sort of thing (a sort of preview and "how it goes" of the process), let me know. Cheers!**


	15. 15: A Conspiracy of Errors

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Quick Author's Pre-Note: ****I'll have more of a note at the end.**

**Harry and the Mysterious Curse of the Girl-Who-Lived**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: A CONSPIRACY OF ERRORS**

**Previously: The gang has decided to work on the Mystery of the Chamber and just how Filch was attacked. Seems like it might be important. But they have a lot on their plate, what with Lockhart maybe also up to something and Sirius Black escaping Azkaban. Snape's certainly scared about that one. But there's something more pressing... just what are the Hufflepuffs up to?**

* * *

"Let's take a walk, maybe near the lake?" Susan asked. "So we can get get away from anyone who might be following us?"

"We could drop by the Quidditch lockers," offered Harry. "Nobody should be there now."

The Hufflepuff nodded and they began to walk out towards the pitch. Although she had a calm expression on her face, Harry noticed that she was fidgeting with with hair in what seemed a nervous manner. So he decided to give her a bit of time, and let her talk first.

After getting about halfway there, Susan sighed and her eyes dropped to the ground. "I'm just so sick of it all," she mumbled. She took one very large breath in and looked up at Harry. "This is getting hard for me to deal with, Harriet. Do you have any idea what's going on, any at all?"

"Not _specifically_, no," admitted Harry. "I mean, there's you, Hannah, Ernie with some sort of secret with Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Parvati at the least - I don't think Padma or Anthony are in on it. But what the secret is, I don't know."

"You're not making this very easy on me, Harriet," said Susan with a sort of twisted grimace. "I don't really like to make trouble."

Harry frowned and folded his arms as he stopped walking. "Well, too late for that. Just go ahead then and explain yourself."

Susan looked away. "It wasn't my idea at first, you understand," she said, still not meeting Harry's eyes. "Us Hufflepuffs, we stick together and have since first year. I mean, not every single person, of course. We found friends we liked and stayed that way. I've known Hannah and Ernie forever, naturally, even when I was a little girl."

Harry nodded and said, "Right, and Justin is muggleborn, right?"

"Yes, but he got along smashingly with us; he's just a good... I don't know the word, but it's like he fits in, I guess?" Susan shrugged and said, "so we four have seen the bizarre group you have grow and grow each year. Gryffindors aren't really known for things like that. Although it's not something I bet they even know about themselves."

"I never knew that," said Harry. "So you're saying that it was weird when..." Harry took a moment to count in his head. "Five of us... Oh, wait I forgot me, I meant six of us hung out together? And then I guess it was even weirder when Anthony and Padma were suddenly there too?"

Susan laughed, but very softly and kept walking, looking up at the stands. "Yes, although now I realize it's all quite logical. Padma's odd, but she's Parvati's sister and gets along well with your group. It's surprising, because I find her kinda annoying." She looked quickly at Harry and then down at the ground. "I mean, that's just how I feel, I'm not trying to insult her. And Anthony... well, I never really knew him, he's just a quiet, studious kid. But now I see that he's pretty good friends with... well, not all of you, but some of you, anyway."

Harry scratched his head, a bit confused. He grabbed a stray bit of paper off the ground that caught his eye, although once he saw it, it was completely blank. He stuffed it his pocket as he considered what Susan had said. Her little revelations were interesting, but they didn't explain what was going on at all. "But if you thought our group was weird, why did you start hanging out with us? And why just one at a time? And why..." He stopped when Susan held up a hand.

"Yes, yes, I get it, Harriet, it's bizarre when you don't know about it." She gave him a small smile. "It's going to get worse though, if you give me a minute." Susan sighed. "We always had this feeling that you - by which I mean _you_, Harriet - was doing something bad. Because of You-Know-Who."

"What does...?" Harry almost yelled this, but pulled back at the last moment. "What does that mean?" He asked slightly more calmly. "What, are you saying like I'm something like her?"

Susan winced. "This is the sort of thing I didn't want to talk about. It's _so awkward_." But when Harry didn't say anything, just waiting, she swallowed audibly. "Right. So yes, we thought there was something bad going on, and then with the attack on Filch, and Sirius Black? Well, by that point we were already doing the plan, but it was just more bad news that made you seem a bit more suspicious."

"What _plan_?" Harry asked.

Susan didn't say anything for a long minute, just clenching and unclenching her fists while looking in the distance. But just as Harry was about to ask if she was alright, Susan blurted out, "it was the Slytherins, okay?" She looked back at him. "The Slytherins said you were doing something awful and mean and cruel and we needed to figure out what."

Harry made a face. "I don't know what you're talking about. I wasn't doing anything mean or cruel or whatever. Unlike some people I know."

"I realize that _now,_" the Hufflepuff said. "But at the time we were scared enough to listen to them. They knew you didn't like them because of the House rivalry, and because of the Ravenclaws hating you... although that part I still haven't figured out."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't know about all of them, but a few were being bullies to Luna."

"Really?" Susan asked in horror. "Oh, I can't get off track before I finish or I never will. So they said that since us Hufflepuffs were sort of neutral so far, we were the perfect way to... I don't remember the word they said, but it means to sneak into and become a part of the group so we could discover your secret plan. Like a Blackrobe or Sneakwitch!"

"Who are these Slytherins?" Harry asked, feeling nervous and a bit scared. He had enough to worry about without a bunch of kids plotting against him. "Malfoy and his idiots?"

Susan laughed. "Please! That posturing fool doesn't know anything!" Then her face fell. "It was some of the girls. Pansy, Tracey, and Daphne."

"I know who they are," said Harry. "I think. Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis... and Daphne... Greenbaum?"

"Greengrass," corrected Susan, fiddling with her long, red plait of hair. "Purebloods, all of them. Maybe Davis is a bit mixed. They think you hate them."

"I don't even _know_ them," insisted Harry. "Although Pansy was a real pain in Potions one time not that long ago. I don't believe I've ever spoken a word to them, now that I think on it."

Susan smirked slightly. "That was your mistake, Harriet. They think you hate them, so they hate you."

Harry threw up his hands, utterly annoyed. "Can't I just talk to them and... I dunno, explain this mess?"

"No!" Susan leaped her feet. "You can't say anything! You can't let them know I've told you anything!" She licked her lips nervously. "We can just... Oh, I know. I'll just tell them you didn't like us barging in and it'll be over."

"You can't say that, won't that make it worse?" Harry asked.

Susan frowned. "Well... hmm, you may be right. But still, if you went to them, they'd just pretend to forgive you, and then they'd think you were lying and do something even worse."

"I don't understand girls," Harry muttered and Susan giggled.

"You _are _quite the tomboy, aren't you Harriet?" Susan said with a smile. "Sometimes you really do act just like a boy."

"Oh, thanks."

Susan laughed louder. "_Really_, Harriet, now you're just winding me up."

Harry grinned at this to act as though he agreed, although he had actually been quite sincere. "So that explains part of it," Harry said. "I guess then... oh wait..." His mind raced as he thought about it. "So you told the others... well, actually I'm not sure."

"Well," Susan started to say.

"Oh, hold on!" Harry interrupted. "Tell me if I'm right. You wanted to sneak into the group, but you needed to make it happen in a way that I wouldn't know about it, but you _also_ wanted to actually mess around with us. So you told my friends that you knew there was only room for one of you, and made sure each person only championed just one Hufflepuff. And you told them to keep it a secret from me so I wouldn't affect it being all natural."

Susan's mouth was open wide and her eyes were wide. "That's... that's exactly right, Harriet, but we weren't trying to mess with you." She frowned. "Wait... were we?"

"Did the Slytherin girls come up with the entire idea?" Harry asked. "Maybe they didn't tell you their whole plan. Sneaky, but it fits with the House, right?"

The redhead scowled. "Oh... oh, blast, Harriet! I think you're spot on! They _used _us! Tricked us because they knew we were afraid of you." She looked at Harry and had a fierce look in her eyes. "Well, now I'm furious at them! I don't know what I want to do, but it's gotta be something." Susan sighed. "All this is very complicated... I'm no Ravenclaw or Slytherin, I don't know what to do."

She looked back at Harry, who was shocked to see tears starting to form in her eyes. At first, he was at a total loss of how to react. But then he had an idea. Harry moved over next to Susan and put his arm around her. Right away, Susan grabbed him in a fierce hug and started to cry.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I know you're not evil, I know!"

Harry patted her softly on the back. "It's okay, Susan. I'm just glad you're being honest with me."

Susan pulled back and wiped her eyes on her robes. "Thank you for understanding, Harriet. But I still don't know what we should do!"

"Well," Harry tapped his chin, thinking it over. "Susan, what do you think about keeping this little thing going a bit longer?"

Susan raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you pretend nothing's gone wrong. You tell the other Hufflepuffs and the Slytherin girls that I was angry about something, but you convinced me nothing was wrong."

"Wow!" Susan smiled. "And then what?"

"We act like it's all the same as before. You keep this up, but instead of them using you, we use _them_ to figure out what they're really up to? And maybe we turn it back against them."

Susan clapped and jumped up and down. "Ooh, that's brilliant, Harriet. You're practically a Slytherin yourself with that sort of trick." She winked. "No offense meant, of course."

Harry chuckled. "Naturally."

"But I don't know," she said, biting her lower lip. "I'm not sure I can be that good at pretending."

"You can," Harry said, grabbing her hand in a move he hoped was expected and correct. Susan smiled instantly. "You've kept so calm this whole time. I know you can do it, Susan. I trust you."

Susan's eyes widened and she nodded. "You can count on me, Harriet. I promise you."

Harry smiled. "Good."

* * *

The way Harry had acted had been easily explained to the rest of the group; he merely said he thought they were trying to find out their secrets, but it was obvious just them wanting to be friends. It was actually mildly unsettling how quickly the Gryffindors agreed, although Neville said nothing at all. Harry wondered if Neville was feeling guilty about it or was just as confused about the whole business. The only thing Harry realized for sure was that he wished there was someone he could confide in. Luna, as nice as she was, was still a year younger and probably even worse when dealing with other girls. Dumbledore of course wasn't an option, even if he had the time for such a trivial matter.

And although Harry wanted to talk to his friends in Gryffindor about it, it'd sort of defeat the purpose of the plan of deception if he brought up his feelings. Not that he couldn't trust them, but they had been hiding their own little secret from him after all. Turnabout, fair play, etc. So Harry was stuck hiding yet another mystery inside his head for the next few days. But an opportunity soon presented itself at the next Quidditch practice.

By this point, Harry had utilized a similar method of changing and washing separately from the girls, claiming (not entirely inaccurately) that he was too shy and uncomfortable. He often arrived earlier than necessary to get ready just in case. Harry sat outside just the locker rooms, already dressed, waiting for the other girls to finish. He could hear Alicia and Angelina chattering away like usual, wondering if either of them would be interested in helping him with his Slytherin problem. Probably, if he could muster the courage to bring it up with them.

"You look pretty intense, Harriet," said Katie Bell, coming out and sitting next to her, also dressed. "It's just practice, you realize." She laughed and pulled her already short hair into a very tight ponytail. "Not that Oliver can tell the difference, eh?"

Harry looked her over carefully. Katie was an interesting girl once you actually thought about it, especially compared to the others. Although Harry thought of her as "one of those Chaser girls", really she wasn't that similar to Alicia or Angelina. When those two went on and on with their girlish gibberish, Katie seemed like she was never much into it, which struck Harry as exceptionally reasonable and not at all unfamiliar. She was younger than the other Chasers, but that was a positive; the two older girls seemed unimaginably mysterious and confusing. Katie was like a compromise girl.

"It's complicated, Katie," said Harry with a small smile. "Dealing with girl troubles, if you know what I mean."

Katie made a face. "I don't know what you mean, actually. Are you saying you're in love with a girl? Bit young for that, aren't you?"

A rush of warmth flooded Harry's face and he couldn't say anything for a moment, so taken aback. But then he cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, no, no," he answered. "Not that. I _am_ too young, certainly. No, I'm just having problems with some Slytherin girls trying to cause trouble."

"Slytherin bints!" Katie scowled. "They are the cruelest sort, that's for sure. They've said some awful things behind my back and even to my face." She tapped her chin. "Although it's probably just the girls in my year. I don't think I've heard them say much about you other than what any Slytherin says."

"What do they say?" Harry asked. "Nothing good, I expect."

Katie laughed. "Nah, 'course not. Just typical sh... typical stupidity. Like that 'oh, she's not that pretty' or 'she's not _that_ good at Quidditch'." She grinned. "Expect that they're all blind, eh?"

"I wish it was that simple," grumbled Harry. "I don't much care about 'prettiness'," he managed to say this without spitting the word. "Or much of the other foolish girly things." He then looked up at Katie and realized he may have insulted her. "Um, no offense, of course. I didn't think you liked them either."

"You're spot on, Harriet," Katie said with a nod. "And I know that you probably won't like hearing this, but the effortless way you present yourself, like you don't care at all and don't need to make an effort, makes people both like you and hate you even more. You can argue as much as you want about not caring about being _pretty_, but you don't look like you don't care."

Harry grimaced. Katie was entirely correct; he did not like hearing that at all.

"Most girls think you really do care, but that doesn't matter, because either you effortlessly hide it, or just really don't care and have some absurd physical gifts." She shrugged. "That sort of confidence makes people uncomfortable because they can't help but get drawn in. And for the ones all ready to hate you, like our Slytherin idiot friends, that mixes up in their heads and the frustration comes out as mean and empty words."

"Wow." Harry couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd never actually thought about all that.

"I know that sounds unimaginably smart," said Katie, wiggling her eyebrows. "But it's because I have a bit of experience with this sort of thing. Not the same level as you, obvious, but still. I've never cared about the girly sorts of things, although even I don't have the same amount of..." She paused and bit her lip in thought. "I do like to get dressed up sometimes, look nice, act like a girl. But I just don't care on a normal day, it's a special occasion thing. I think you're the sort who never cares, am I right?" she finished.

"Whatever," said Harry. "I'm not about to change, that's for sure."

Katie gave her a warm look. "That's the right attitude, Harriet."

"So what do you think I should do about the Slytherins in my year?" Harry asked. "I mean, it's like they're all mental or something."

"I don't know," the older girl admitted. "I guess I don't have enough information."

Harry looked Katie in the eyes. "Well, I suppose I can trust you, can't I? You won't tell anybody else, right?"

Katie met her gaze and nodded. "Hell, Harriet, if you can't trust your teammates, who can you trust?"

It seemed reasonable, and it wasn't like Katie was going to go tell the Slytherins everything. So Harry quickly filled the Chaser in on everything that he had found out from Susan Bones.

"Well, that's insane," said Katie after Harry had finished. "That sort of double or triple crossing is past anything I ever did. I think you're already much better at this sort of thing than me." She gave him a sort of sad smile. "You're better with other people, that's for sure. I have only one real friend, and it only started because she's a Quidditch fanatic."

"Do I know her?" Harry asked, trying to remember seeing Katie with anyone else.

"Hard to say." Katie shrugged and tugged a bit on her uniform. "Her name's Leanne and she's my age. You probably don't know much about the older years. That's normal for Muggle-borns, and you were raised by Muggles, right?"

Harry nodded. Apparently it was public knowledge, and he wasn't entirely sure what to think about it.

Katie seemed to realize Harry wasn't happy about this revelation. "It's obvious once you've been around you long enough," she said, almost stumbling over her words in her haste to spit them out. "I don't think most of the school has any clue, if that's what you're worried about."

Harry breathed out softly, not realizing until that moment that it had been a worry at all.

"But anyway, the point stands," Katie continued. "I don't bloody know anything about how to deal with people outside of Quidditch. I dunno what'll happen once boys start noticing me, if that even happens. I mean, it hasn't happened yet." She sighed. "But I shouldn't be bothering you with that nonsense, I know it's not something you want to hear about."

"Thanks," said Harry in relief. "So you really don't know what to do?"

Katie considered this for a minute. "I have to say, it seems like you're doing things right so far. If I had any advice, I'd say to not keep it a secret from your closest friends, whichever ones they are. I know you have a million friends, but surely there are some that you really trust, right?"

Harry nodded slowly. "That's not a bad point." He grinned. "Thanks, Katie."

She smiled back. "Yeah, well, it's a first for me, giving advice on this sort of thing. I would've expected you to talk to Angie or Allie about it."

"Angie or Allie?" Harry laughed. "I don't think I've ever called them that."

"Oh, they hate it," assured Katie. "We all give each other names we don't care for."

"Really? So is Katie the wrong name?" Harry was obviously more than a little sensitive on the subject of names one didn't like to be called.

"Hardly. They call me Kathryn," she answered, rolling her eyes. "Obviously it annoys me."

"Hey there!" It was Angelina, dressed as well, standing next to Alicia. "If you two young ladies are finished your teatime, Wood wants to see us!"

Harry nearly scowled, before he caught himself and gave the older girls a sly look. "Oh, thanks ever so much, Angie dear. Teatime just isn't the same without you anyway."

Katie didn't bother to hide her laughing and punched Harry lightly in the shoulder.

"Nice," said Angelina, rolling her eyes and they walked over to meet Wood and the Weasley twins by the pitch.

"Alright, team!" Oliver Wood said, giving them one of his classic, manic grins. "We've won one year, thanks to a brilliant team and some decent coaching. But we can't let that stand. Not just one year, no sir! No standing on our laurels for us! No, the Gryffindors will not just let the sleeping dragon lie, no question about it!"

Fred snickered. "I think you don't have that quite right, oh great one."

"Well perhaps you can't handle a dragon," said George in a faux pompous style. "But goodsirs and goodmadams, I can take it on if need be."

"With no assistance 'tall?" Fred gasped dramatically. "Heavens, but you might be devoured or burnt alive!"

George clenched a fist. "No, fair maiden Winifred, none shall defeat Sir George as he faces his dragon!"

Angelina and Alicia began to applaud.

"Oh, _well_ done," Angelina said. "Should've seen where that was going ages ago."

"Yes, you should've," Fred replied with a saucy grin.

Wood scowled. "I don't get it. And I don't care to!"

"Obviously," mumbled George.

"The _point is_," Wood said scathingly. "Is that the Slytherin are still a talented bunch, despite being a bunch of talentless tossers."

"Yeah, curse those talented talentless tossers!" Fred shouted.

"Totally!" George added.

Wood nodded. "Thanks. So let's work hard and finish practice with the seething capability to show Slytherin exactly where they stand!"

It sounded about right.

* * *

The day of the Quidditch match against Slytherin seemed to match the mood of the school, muggy and dark, with the barest hints of light. Although there had been no further attacks since the one against Filch, it was still entirely unknown who attacked the caretaker, still comatose and petrified.

But despite all this muddled mess of emotions, Harry exuded extreme, if surprising, confidence about the upcoming game. This seemed to have an effect on his cadre of friends, all of whom insisted on accompanying him out to the lockers as he left early from lunch. Naturally, this led to the entire Gryffindor table following behind, and then the Slytherins matched with their own team leaving for support. The rush between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw to be first to the pitch went almost unnoticed due to the glares and spite that hovered between the two competing teams.

The crowd squeezed out of the doors with near relief as they all streamed outside. Harry spotted a few Slytherins in his year near him, and he gave them his best guileless smile.

Draco Malfoy, holding his broom tightly, almost reared back in surprise, before Pansy Parkinson put a steadying hand on his shoulder. She smiled back at Harry in a way that seemed suspiciously sincere.

"Good luck out there Potter," she said, just loud to be heard over the clamors and jostling. "You'll need it."

Harry was certain there were more sniping insults than the obvious to decipher, but he didn't really have the time to figure it out.

Ron laughed a bit too loudly and obviously. "So says the team that already lost to us."

"Shut your traitorous mouth, Weasley!" Malfoy spat. "You and your precious little girl Seeker just got lucky last year."

"You really should address your concerns to me," Harry told him. "I am right here, after all."

Malfoy scowled. "Everybody knows you're nothing but an empty-headed tart, Potter! You're more likely to crash into the grass than spot the Snitch. I don't know why you aren't already crying in fear."

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Parvati yelled at him from behind several other students.

"Brilliantly put," said Pansy. "Obvious why you aren't the brains of the bunch."

Harry rolled his eyes at the overly dramatic pontification. "The only thing we have to worry about are your brand new brooms, but that's balanced against how awful you are. So it's about even, if I had to guess."

At this, Malfoy nearly moved towards them, but then Neville came out of from behind the other Gryffindors and made a sort of fake lunge. It was enough though, as Draco started back, falling onto the ground, before a few random Slytherins quickly picked him back up.

"You'll pay for that, Longbottom," he snarled. "Watch yourself." But despite these fierce words, there was a quiver on Malfoy's face and he seemed a bit paler than usual. Well, so much the better, he was more likely to fly poorly in such a rattled state.

This prediction proved entirely founded, as Harry ran circles around Malfoy, who despite having a faster broom, seemed to have difficulty keeping it under control. Unfortunately, the other Slytherins didn't quite suffer the same nervousness, and utilized their faster brooms and penchant for cheating to great effect, keeping the game's score quite close. But it wasn't long at all before Harry spotted the Snitch and ended the game definitively in the Gryffindor's favour. Malfoy stormed off the field, muttering about cheating and other incoherent lies, but by then nobody was paying much attention.

When Harry left the locker room later, he spotted an older girl and boy waiting for him. He didn't recognize them at first, but after a moment he remembered them as the captains of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw teams respectively. Not that he could recall their names.

"Good work up there Potter," said the girl. "But don't think that means you'll have such an easy time with either of us."

"Oh is that right?" Harry asked. "Think your teams are any better this year?"

"You never know," said the Ravenclaw captain. "I have a feeling your streak can't last forever."

Harry smiled, still a bit unsure of the intentions of the two captains. "Can I ask you then something?"

"Of course, Harriet," said the Hufflepuff captain. "But I think I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is simple. We don't like the Slytherins any more than you do."

"Unless you were wondering something else," the older boy said.

"This is going to sound a bit rude," Harry said slowly. "But let's say I want to ask about kids who are bullying a friend of mine in Ravenclaw, is that something you can help with?"

"Depends," said the Ravenclaw. "Is this friend a boy or girl?" He gave Harry a weak smile. "If it's the trouble you've had with that first year, I can't really help much. I'm a seventh year and really, our House tends to be a bit insular." He gestured at the girl. "Caroline probably could help if it was something on the 'Puff side. They all stick together."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Typical Ravenclaw. We have cliques, same as you. They just tend to be a bit... larger." She giggled. "But I noticed some of second years hanging around you, Harriet. Are any of them causing trouble?"

That was a far more complicated question than she realized, it seemed, and Harry wasn't about to correct her. "Nah, they're all fine," said Harry. "But listen, um, sir."

"It's Shoma," interjected Caroline. "I know it's hard to remember, since it's such a weird name."

The Ravenclaw captain gave her a mild glare. "My grandfather would say your name is just as weird."

Caroline shrugged. "Well, whatever. We've been keeping you Harriet, there's probably a bit of a party going on, eh?"

"Oh yeah!" Harry said in realization. "I should get over there. Nice talking to you, and listen. Don't feel too bad when you guys lose, it's just how it has to be."

Both captains laughed in reply.

"Nicely put, Harriet," Caroline replied with a snicker. "Enjoy the party."

It was only once Harry was nearly back when he realized he had forgotten to ask Shoma his question, and also what the question was supposed to be. But he figured he'd remember eventually.

There was indeed a decently raucous celebration going on in the Gryffindor Common Room when Harry made it back, to the point where although at first it was nice to be congratulated every forty seconds, soon Harry found himself getting weary at the attention. He thought about finding any of his friends, but they all seemed to be otherwise occupied. Ron and Neville were talking to some first years, while Parvati and Lavender were chattering away at the Chaser girls. Hermione was even speaking animatedly to Oliver Wood about something, and he seemed nearly to be legitimately listening.

But that was alright.

Harry just walked slowly through the crowd, nodding as he went, pretending to drink from his butterbeer to avoid conversation. And then he spotted something moving on the staircase up to the dormitories. Harry finally realized what he was looking at, a small head peeking out and looking around. Dobby! When the house elf realized that Harry spotted him, he made a quick motion with his hand and vanished up the stairs.

An uneasy feeling came over Harry, and he quickly moved through the crowds to follow Dobby. Luckily, no one seemed to notice Harry abandoning the party as it continued to get more and more out of hand.

Dobby was waiting for Harry in his room, wringing his hands together and shaking back and forth.

"Oh, Harriet Potter!" Dobby squeaked when Harry appeared. "You are okay! Something terrible is coming, Dobby can feel it!"

"Wait, is this about Sirius Black or the Heir or... both?" Harry considered the other possibilities. "Do you know if they are connected?"

Dobby shook his head. "Dobby does not know, but he has not heard of this Sirius in many years. No, no! Dobby is here to warn Harriet Potter about the _danger_ he already told her about. Please, Harriet, be careful!"

"And you still can't tell me how exactly I need to be careful?"

Dobby just made a desperate wail and smacked his head against the bedpost. "Dobby wishes he could see Harriet Potter to safety!" he cried.

"Enough," hissed Harry, feeling almost pained himself at the self-flagellation. "I get it. Don't hurt yourself, okay?"

"Oh, but Harriet Potter should not worry about poor Dobby," said the elf, his eyes filling with tears. "She must worry about herself and her friends. Please, stay safe, Harriet Potter!"

"I will, Dobby," Harry promised. "Thanks for the warning. Really, I mean it."

Dobby smiled, but still seemed worried. He nodded once and disappeared.

Harry slept very badly that night.

* * *

For the next few days, Harry felt constantly on edge, always wondering when the next attack or drama was coming. He had made an oblique reference to "having bad dreams" but that excuse wouldn't last for long. It was clear that the lack of sleep was beginning to have an effect on him.

One day he arrived at the breakfast table before anyone else, as was starting to become a habit, only to be surprised when Ginny Weasley came and sat down near him. She looked almost as bad as Harry, with excessively pale skin, listless hair, and a glazed, sad look in her eyes. Seeing the younger girl in such a state made Harry feel bad for someone that had been so excited to meet him - even if she was really thinking of him as a "her".

"Ginny," Harry said quietly, to avoid echoing throughout the empty Hall. "'Morning."

Ginny looked up in surprise. She managed a very small smile, wincing slightly. "Yes, morning Harriet. Sorry, just haven't been sleeping well lately. Not sure why."

"Neither have I, if I can be honest with you," Harry told her. "Maybe it's something in the air."

The girl's mouth quirked up and she made a sound like half a giggle. Then she frowned and rubbed her forehead. "Bugger," she muttered. "My bloody head."

"Ah, don't worry about it," said Harry quickly. "Just eat your breakfast and feel better."

Ginny nodded, looking quite relieved, and set to picking at her rapidly cooling food.

Harry ate his own food slowly, feeling glad that at least he still had his appetite. But Ginny's appearance left him worried and concerned; what was wrong with her? Was she sick or hurt? Had someone been cruel to her? Was she worried about something? Of course, she thankfully knew nothing about Dobby's warning, but perhaps she was just worried about the attack on Filch. Actually, that made quite a bit of sense. It was surprising how blasé the students had already been about it.

Perhaps it was because most students really didn't like Filch, with his unpleasant look and demeanor, despite the valuable service he probably did for the school. Or maybe it was how easy it was just not to think about problems or worries, and just keep living life as best you could. Harry wondered if someone could get used to anything unpleasant and odd, just because they had no choice. Of course, thinking about this reminded Harry of his Curse again, which hardly served to improve his mood. Despite having more than a few friends, none really could help with the magical malady that constantly affected him.

Naturally, it wasn't like he had any intention of leaving Hogwarts to live with Muggles, there was a very clear line he wouldn't cross. But Harry had nobody really even to talk to, except for Luna and Professor Dumbledore. The Headmaster was assuredly far too busy to waste time with Harry's personal problems, especially with Sirius Black on the loose and petrifying Filch. Luna, though...

Harry realized with a start that the only real reason he hadn't spoken as often to Luna was because they were in different years and houses. If she had been in Gryffindor, they could sit in the common room or elsewhere in the tower, just talking about whatever. And if they were in the same year, they'd share classes or at least be able to study together. Instead it was the little snippets he managed when nothing else was pressing.

He looked over at the Ravenclaw table, but Luna had yet to make her appearance. So Harry resolved to wait, despite being extremely impatient, until after breakfast to speak to his younger friend. It was practically torture after that, sitting through his Gryffindor classmates jabbering away about this, that, and the other thing, waiting for Luna to finish her food. He was tempted several times to go over before she was done, but he didn't want to get into a fight with the stupid Ravenclaw girls again.

The very instant she wiped her face, Harry leaped up, mumbled a quick "see you later" to his friends and walked close to the Ravenclaw table, catching Luna's eye. She smiled and nodded, clearly getting the message. Harry waited a bit nearby in the hallway for her, tapping the stone wall every few seconds.

Finally Luna showed up and she grinned widely at Harry.

"Hello, Not-Harriet, or Arri." She pronounced this like "ah-ree". "Do you like that? I'm testing another name, Ah-ree." Luna frowned. "No, actually it sounds very stupid. I'll stop trying."

Harry laughed. "No, no," he said. "Actually I just wanted to talk to you. It's been a while, so I feel like we need to catch up. You clearly remember I'm not a girl, so that's a good start."

Luna nodded with a quick bob of her head. "I've been writing a note every morning and evening to remind myself. So far it has been working quite well, Not-Harriet!" She scratched her chin. "I still don't like that name. I'll figure it out someday."

"Actually I wanted to tell you about something," said Harry, and proceeded to summarize his issues with the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. "It's weird, right?"

"Oh, that's an interesting perspective," said Luna, tilting her head. "I find it confusing because it is confusing, not because they are girls. I know it's odd for you, but in many ways you are much like a normal girl. One way you're different is that you're nice to me, but I think that's only because I can talk about your Curse."

"Luna!" Harry said, feeling terrible and hoping it wasn't true. He couldn't be entirely sure, as Luna was a bit odd, but she was such a pleasant and smart girl. In another world, where Harry was seen correctly as a boy, he hoped that he would also be friends with Luna. But who could say? "Well, I wouldn't expect you to really have great advice about this particular problem. I just wanted to talk about it with someone that can understand."

"Okay," she said with a smile. "I think I understand, at least. Is there something else you wanted to talk about?"

"I don't know," said Harry, thinking about it. "I mean ... there might be one thing. You're friends with Ginny, right?"

Luna shrugged and said, "Friends seems a strong word, but we grew up together. She thinks I'm odd, but I think she's odd too. I guess that makes us a sort of friends. But actually Ginny and I haven't really talked in a while. Weeks, maybe."

"Really?" Harry asked, feeling worried and concerned. "She looks kinda out of it and unhealthy."

"We speak just in class or in a purely perfunctory matter," said Luna to clarify further. "And that much is also basically just in class."

"Uh huh," said Harry, not entirely understanding, but he got the general point. "Well, I guess we should keep an eye on her, eh?"

Luna closed one eye and stuck out her other one even more than usual. "Good idea, Not-at-all-Harriet."

Harry sighed. "Luna, that's just an expression."

"I know," Luna said and then laughed. "I was making a joke!"

"Oh." Harry paused and then began to laugh himself. "Okay, that's not that bad."

* * *

Although Harry was more and more nervous, and not a little paranoid, each day, he tried his best to hide it from the others, even focusing his attention on the overabundance of Hufflepuffs. The drama there, which had seemed so irksome and troubling, now was a pleasant respite from the legitimate danger of Black, who might or might not be the Heir of Slytherin, lurking about. But although he was happy to have the Hufflepuffs hang out with his group, it was already getting quite unwieldy. So he casually mentioned something to the girls about the crowded aspect, and they instantly began to think they had come up with the idea to split into smaller groups. Hermione had it first, and disagreed a bit with Parvati on the precise arrangements.

And then Lavender tentatively offered the idea of switching it up every so often. And suddenly the groups were much more tolerable. Usually Neville, Susan, and Parvati sat with Harry; he wanted to keep an eye on Susan, who Harry began to quite like despite himself. He also believed that Neville and Parvati were probably the closest to himself in terms of actual academic ability. For similar reasons, Hermione, Padma, Anthony, and Justin Finch-Fletchley (the Muggleborn and sharpest of the Hufflepuffs) also mostly sat together, although they were often in demand to help with particular homework concerns.

This left the group of Ron, Lavender, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott, which was also usually the one group Madame Pince told to be quiet or they'd get detention. Odd in some ways, as Hannah was certainly the quietest person normally among all of them. And so it continued for a while, until Harry almost forgot about his troubles entirely.

Until, of course, the next attack happened.

It had happened on a typical Sunday, with the massive group sitting interspersed throughout the Library. Harry was procrastinating on his History homework, which was one of the subjects he felt little motivation to try in, unlike Defense (which he quite enjoyed), or Charms and Transfiguration (in which he often struggled, but wanted to live up to the memory of his parents' success in those classes). Potions was a mixed bag, as Snape was excellent at expressing subtle disappointment about minor errors, but Harry had found the class increasingly intuitive as the months passed.

Parvati and Susan were only too happy to ignore the History work and gossip about random things, while Harry tried to listen to the other groups without it looking like he was listening. Neville was over with the "smart" group to get some help with a few questions, but he clearly gotten delayed due to yet another argument. They were arguing about something quietly but vehemently, but it was probably about coursework (Harry guessed this by the way Hermione kept pointing to her Charms textbook). He caught the all too familiar sound of Ron and Lavender laughing far too loudly, probably at one of Ernie's caustic jokes – he was good at it, and Ron loved them all. Lavender would always protest how "awful" Ernie was being, but she would laugh just the same. It was easy to see on Ernie's face how proud he was at making them laugh, although Harry often found the jokes a bit too mean when he was the audience.

"I don't think she had any idea that he was cheating on her," said Susan with an affected tone of scandal. "Can you imagine? The star of the Quidditch team!"

"Wait, who was this?" Harry interjected, hearing something he might actually care about.

Parvati raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, Harriet," she said. "You haven't been paying attention until you heard the word 'Quidditch'?"

"Um," said Harry slowly.

Susan giggled. "Oh, really, Harriet. It's nothing to worry about; we know you don't care much about this sort of thing. But this story is pretty interesting. See, the captain of the Ravenclaw team, this _interesting_ looking boy. . . "

"Shoma?" Harry interrupted. "What did he do?"

"Oh, do you know him?" Parvati asked. "Is this a Quidditch thing, knowing the captain?"

Harry nodded and said, "yeah, basically. I had a brief conversation with him and Caroline, the Hufflepuff captain, after the last game."

"_Really_," said Susan with great interest. "Did it seem like they were in love?"

This was the wrong question to ask Harry, who probably wouldn't have noticed unless they explicitly had said something about it, but he proceeded anyway. "I don't think so, but I don't know. They certainly seemed to like each other at least as friends."

"Well," said Susan and leaned forward. "So I heard from a fourth year that's second cousins with a Hufflepuff who's the neighbor of the captain of the team."

"Uh huh," said Harry slowly. "Okay."

"Right, and so apparently she's been dating this guy in her House, not that unusual, of course," said Parvati.

Harry nodded. "Right," he said, although he was already a bit lost. The lack of names wasn't helping, although Harry wasn't sure if that would have even helped.

"Anyway, so guess who she got caught with in the Tower?" Susan asked with a glint in her eyes.

"Who?" Harry asked with significantly less energy, beginning to withdraw from the conversation.

But before Susan could answer, there was some sort of commotion in the Library, and then Ron ran over to them, Ernie coming right behind him.

"Guys, did you hear?" Ron asked, his face ashen and worried.

"I'd imagine they didn't," Ernie interjected quickly and puffed up his chest a bit. "The girls were already over here."

Ron's face began to sour, and Harry could see he was about to say something insulting, so he got up quickly.

"What is it?" Harry asked, immediately getting a terrible, cold feeling in his stomach.

"Someone else was attacked," said Ron, and then Parvati and Lavender gasped.

Neville came over quickly then, and said, "Guys, did you hear? Colin was attacked?"

"The tiny first year?" asked Lavender. "Oh no, that's horrible. Is he… I mean…"

"We don't know anything at the moment," said Ernie. "But it seems that he was petrified in the same way as Filch."

Harry sat down, feeling awful – was this the attack Dobby had warned about? It had to be, but was there anything Harry could've done? Dobby hadn't mentioned a target, but perhaps it was just random. Or perhaps it was intentional.

"Why would Colin be attacked?" He asked softly.

"If it _is_ the Heir of Slytherin," said Parvati. "Then probably it's because he's a Muggle-born. I mean I don't actually know what Filch is, I've never seen him use magic, but perhaps he's also one? Or maybe Colin was just convenient for Sirius Black, unprotected and alone somewhere?"

"Bugger," Ron cursed. "That's bloody awful."

"It simply has to be a student," said Ernie. "Working with Black on this dastardly deed. Probably a Ravenclaw or Slytherin, of course."

"It might be You-Know-Who," said Neville. "Anthony and Hermione were arguing about it, but they think she might be behind it somehow. They couldn't agree on how though."

"Oh, is that what they were arguing about?" Harry considered this and the conversation he had had earlier with Professor Snape. "I wonder if her and Sirius Black are working together. That's a pretty terrible team."

Susan began crying and she hugged herself. "What are we supposed to do?" She looked up at Harry. "Harriet, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "But we'll figure it out. Somehow."

* * *

The mandate soon came down from the professors: stay in groups at all times. It wasn't clear if that was actually doing anything other than making students feel better, but so far there had been no further attacks. But there was still a tension in the air, almost palpable, and although the older students and professors never spoke about it, it was something that the younger ones picked up on. Even the first years realized how serious this all was, yet there was still this feeling of hope and pride in the school. The older students would say that they'd figure it out, and that it they had the greatest Wizarding minds in the world. They even usually sounded sincere when they said it.

Harry had attempted to broach the subject of the Heir with McGonagall and Flitwick, but both had told him it wasn't a concern for the students to worry about. But there was one professor that had a different reaction.

Snape was probably more worried than any other teacher, and this bled into his teaching, taking off even more points than usual. Normally Harry would've come early to ask him about it, but due to the group restriction, he had not yet been able to try. Finally during one Potions class, Harry wrote a note that said "May we speak about Black, sir?" and left if folded on Snape's desk as he walked in. Nothing happened that session, but the next class, Snape had clearly read it.

"Potter, stay with me for a minute after class," he said. "Those of you planning to accompany her will wait outside until we are finished. Understood?" He glared at Parvati, who was sitting next to Harry, and visibly trying not to glare back.

Instead she just nodded.

But Harry knew they wouldn't mind waiting a few minutes, especially if he got a few answers out of it.

When all of the students had left the room, and Neville, Dean, and Parvati waited for him outside, Snape sighed and waved his wand. "Have a seat, Miss Potter." When Harry had done so, Snape rubbed his forehead and said, "so what is it you wish to know?"

"Did Black attack Colin Creevey?" Harry asked. "Is this being in groups thing helping?"

"Honestly, Miss Potter," said the Professor. "It is hard to say. This sort of Dark curse is beyond anything any of us have seen, and between us all, that is indeed an oddity. The Headmaster, of course, is one of the most knowledgeable wizards in two hundred years, and I myself have a significant knowledge of many unsavoury spells."

Harry frowned and said, "But is he less likely to attack groups?"

Snape said, "Probably. But a group of first years… well, even a group of older students will not be significant to one of Black's low cunning and magical capability. I admit that sometimes I worry about the students, but you must not let sort of thing spread around!" He leaned forward as he said this, tension clear in shoulders.

"I know that, sir," said Harry. "It'd just make people panic, and that'd be no help to anyone."

The Professor relaxed and sat back. "Well said, Miss Potter. You are certainly becoming a wise young woman." His lip curled. "If only the other students had such foresight."

"I've had a harder life than most," said Harry, getting a feeling Snape would understand.

Snape nodded. "That is true," he said and then the man had a thoughtful look on his face. "Perhaps there _is_ something we can do to help against Black."

"What is it?" Harry asked, trying to suppress his excitement.

"This is something you must tell no one, of course," said the Professor sharply.

Harry barely managed not to roll his eyes. "Sir, come on. You know me better than that."

Snape smirked slightly. "Well, I had to say it, Miss Potter. But my idea is quite simple. Although doing battle with Black is not something any second year should ever attempt, there may be an alternative. Instead, I can show you a few advanced protective spells. That is, if you think you can handle it." He gave Harry a wary look.

"Certainly, sir!" Harry said quickly. "Defense has always been my best class, to be honest."

The Professor smirked slightly. "I know the feeling. And yet you're saddled with such incompetence." He shook his head. "Quirrell last year and Lockhart this one. If there were any actually qualified instructors available, I might have had words with the Headmaster on it."

Harry grimaced and said, "Quirrell was possessed by You-Know-You and even before I knew that, he was terrible. But Lockhart's not so bad. A bit annoying, I guess, but the classes are okay once you realize his books are all fiction."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, no time for that now, you have to get to lunch, as your little friends are assuredly waiting outside for you. We will discuss the particulars of this . . _extra-curricular_ work later, Miss Potter."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, feeling better than he had in days. If anyone knew how to defend against Black, it'd be the Potions Professor. He nodded his head in thanks and walked out to see Parvati and Dean waiting for him.

"Where's Neville?" Harry asked, not seeing the other Gryffindor boy anywhere. "Did he leave with another group?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "He followed Ron and Seamus. Needed to use the bathroom, he said."

"Dean!" Harry said in near a shout, startling the boy. "Did that group think to wait for him there? Do we even know?"

"Oh no!" Parvati said in a near shriek. "We didn't think of that! We have to go check on him!"

As they raced towards the nearest bathroom, Dean said softly, "Sorry, Harriet, didn't think of it. He went after Seamus and Ron and Hermione and Lavender and I guess I didn't . . . I didn't. . ."

"Hold off on apologies until we know more, okay?" said Harry with gritted teeth, trying not to show how worried he was or how furious he was that nobody had considered the obvious flaw in their logic.

But when they came to the lavatory, Dean checked and found nobody there.

"Let's check with the others," Harry suggested. "It's lunchtime anyhow."

But Neville was nowhere to be found in the Hall either, and the other Gryffindors were clearly worried and guilt-ridden that they hadn't thought of waiting for Neville.

Then Percy Weasley arrived and took Ron aside for a minute. Whatever the Prefect had to say, it wasn't good, and Harry feared the worst.

"Let me tell them," said Ron as he walked back, Percy looking with a concerned expression on his face.

Ron walked slowly over to them from his brother, quivering and shaking.

"What is it?" Hermione asked in concern. "What happened?"

Ron looked stricken and horribly pale. "It's Neville. He's in the Hospital Wing."

* * *

_Next time, things get a bit worse._

* * *

_As Parvati stood up to face Susan, the look on the Gryffindor girl's face made Harry feel a bit uncomfortable._

"_Good luck the both of you!" He shouted instead of trying to puzzle it out._

**_Author's Note: Thank you everyone that's still keeping up with this story. As you may imagine, it's been rough for me lately, but I've been steadily writing a little each week. Thanks again and address any questions to me here or on my tumblr at lordjeram dot tumblr dot com._**


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